Surrender
by mentira
Summary: (Jin/Xiao) Slightly AU. What if there was more to the Devil gene than we thought? Perhaps a deeper, darker history? Jin and Xiao explore the origin of the Devil gene, and together they come to some startling conclusions.
1. Prologue

SURRENDER by Tina  
  
Disclaimer: I'm only saying this once: All characters and plots pertaining to the Tekken series belong to Namco--not me, unfortunately.  
  
Rating: For the most part, I think it should actually be PG-13, but I'm rating it R in case I change my mind, just to be on the safe side. ^_-  
  
Summary (in addition to shorter one given on the main page): It's been four years since the fourth King of Iron Fist Tournament. Jin has disappeared once again, this time supposedly for good. Kazuya is alive and well, though hiding in the shadows from his father and hunting down Jin to retrieve the other half of his Devil gene. Heihachi, too, hasn't given up on his grandson. Xiao, in the mean time, has moved on with her life, accepting Jin's departure, but not liking it. One fateful night, however, Jin unexpectedly returns into Xiao's life, throwing everything out of orbit. It appears he's running from something--or someone--but he won't tell her who. Xiao, unable to keep her old feelings for Jin from resurfacing, tries to help him. Along the way, Xiao begins noticing changes in Jin. He's being very secretive about something, and she's determined to find out what it is. Jin also discovers, as things turn out, that he isn't the only one who's changed and is keeping secrets...  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
Jin Kazama stood on the balcony in front of the door to Ling Xiaoyu's bedroom. It was Friday evening, the night of the finishing of the fourth King of Iron Fist Tournament. He wasn't surprised to find Xiao still staying at his grandfather's home. It hadn't been long, after all, that he'd warned her of the threat his grandfather possessed. He supposed it didn't matter, really, as long as he stayed away, though he'd much rather prefer her under a different roof, just to be sure that she'd remain safe.  
  
He hesitated before lifting a loosely clenched fist and tapping his knuckles lightly against the glass panels on her door. It was dark inside, a sliver of light slithering out beneath the partically closed door to her private bathroom. He wasn't sure if she was in there or not. He'd waited out here for a while to see if she'd come out, but she didn't. She must have just left the light on and closed the door so she'd have enough to see her way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  
  
Jin heard the faint creaking of a matress, the soft scuffling of feet padding across the carpet, and then there she was. Xiao stood on the other side of the door, her shoulder-length black hair in a tossled mess around her face, her cheeks flushed and her dark eyes puffy from sleep. He almost felt guilty for waking her.  
  
When she realized who was at her door, she hastily opened it. "Jin?" she said, her light, gentle voice warm and welcoming to his ears.  
  
"Xiao," he said, stepping forward. He had to make this quick. He couldn't stay long. "I need to talk to you."  
  
Xiao nodded, stepping out on to the balcony with him and closing the door behind her. It was a warm night tonight, almost humid, with only the slightest of breezes. She was dressed in a thin white night gown, nearly translucent in the moonlight, that hung loosely off her small frame, though formed nicely to her curves whenever the wind shifted, leaving little to the imagination.  
  
"Jin," she said, sounding sad. Her eyes were wide and honest, hiding nothing from him. "Where have you been? It's been--years..." She averted her face away from him, but he caught the light flush that tinged her cheeks. "I didn't see you at all during the tournament."  
  
"I know," he replied. He wanted to tell her where he went. Damn it, he wanted to tell her everything, but he knew he couldn't. "I'm sorry. But it's not important anymore." He lifted both hands and grapsed them on to her narrow shoulders. "Xiao, listen, what I have to say now is important."  
  
Xiao lifted her eyes back to them, questioning wonder in their depths. Oh, her eyes, how he loved them. So large and deep and beautiful, like warmed dark chocolate, framed by long, black silky lashes. "What is it?" she asked.  
  
"You have to get out of here," he said, all serious business. "Leave this place. Leave Heihachi."  
  
Xiao's eyes sparkled in revelation. "So you *did* send me that e-mail."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why, Jin? What's going on with Heihachi that's so dangerous?"  
  
Jin opened his mouth, but then shut it again. He couldn't tell her that, either. He knew he should, but it was associated with him, and he couldn't reveal anything about himself to her. "I can't tell you that. But, please-- please, Xiao, do this for me."  
  
Suddenly her face hardened, and he saw the hurt and betrayel she felt written on her face. The hurt and betrayel *he'd* caused with his departure two years ago. Xiao was a dear friend to him, always had been (since they started getting along, anyway). He knew she cared about him and it pained her to see him like this, so secretive and always leaving her, but he couldn't help it.  
  
"I haven't seen you in two years. *Two whole years*," she said. He was surprised at the anger and bitterness it held. He'd never heard her like that before. "You just up and disappear on me. I have no idea if you're hurt or whatever. I don't know what's going on anymore, and now you just all of a sudden come back and ask me to leave the only home I have without a good reason? What is *that*, might I ask? Where does that leave me, huh?"  
  
Jin swallowed down his overwhelming sense of guilt and compassion and pressed on. He knew he hadn't treated her fairly--in fact, he'd admit that he'd treated her poorly in the matter--but he couldn't give her any more than this, and she'd just have to accept it, regardless.  
  
He rubbed his thumbs over her skin through the thin material, light, assuring caresses. "I know, I know I'm asking a lot, but it's for your own good. You have to trust me, Xiao. You know I wouldn't ask anything of you unless I absolutely needed it. You can't stay here; it's not safe anymore."  
  
He could see the arguement she was having in her head. She wanted to trust him, but she was so sick of the mess he'd put her through that she didn't know if it was worth it anymore. Tears filled her eyes and she bit down on her bottom lip.  
  
"What about you? Are you going to leave me again?"  
  
Jin's heart sank. "Yes," he replied honestly. No sense in lying to her. "I have to. I can't stay here either."  
  
"Come with me," she said. "Can't you stay with me? You won't be under Heihachi's watch."  
  
He offered her a small, sad smile. "It's not that simple."  
  
"So, I'm going to be alone--again." A tear fell down her cheek. "And after tonight, I won't see you again."  
  
Jin wiped the moisture off her cheek. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Where will I go?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
She nodded her head, but remained silent.  
  
"Promise me, Xiao."  
  
No hesitation. "I promise."  
  
There was nothing left to be said. Jin couldn't stay any longer. He had to go. Releasing her, he turned to leave.  
  
Xiao jumped, grabbing on to him. "Wait!" He turned back to face her. Tears were streaming down her face, her cheeks and nose red from crying, her full lips quivering even as she sucked them between her teeth, trying to regain some composure. "So, this is it? This is goodbye?" At Jin's nod, she said, "Will I ever see you again?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Xiao wiped at her tears, sniffing. "Jin..." Her voice was a sad, pathetic whisper. "What am I going to do without you?"  
  
"You'll be fine."  
  
She shook her head. "No, I won't." She wrapped her arms around his waist, taking him by surprise, and buried her face into his chest. She was so small. "Please, don't leave me."  
  
"This is how it has to be, Xiao." He placed a hand on her head, ran his fingers through her hair. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his hands and tried to push her away. "I need to go now."  
  
"No!" She shook her head furiously, holding tighter on to him.  
  
"Xiao," he said sternly. She was making this most difficult for him.  
  
Jin pushed at her again, but she wouldn't let go. He didn't want to hurt her, but he couldn't stay here. He'd already been here for too long. "Xiao," he said again, almost angrily.  
  
Xiao lifted her face to him, and that did him in. She looked so beautiful, her hair flowing about her pretty face, her eyes half closed and gazing up at his, her lips slightly parted.  
  
He bent down and kissed her.  
  
It was a soft kiss. Slow and hesitant, so foreign, so new. He lifted a hand and cupped her face, pulling her closer to him. Her lips were so full, so supple, a tad bit moist from her nibbling on them earlier.  
  
When he pulled away, Xiao had a dazed expression on her face. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes resting delicately on her smooth, pale skin, her mouth hanging open, her arms slack around his waist.  
  
Now was the best time to get away. Taking advantage of her current state, he quickly backed away. He heard her gasp behind him, but by then he was already in midair, leaping over the railing to her balcony, sailing downward to the ground below.  
  
He ran as fast as he could, bolting for the woods. He couldn't take off until he was well hidden. Risking a glance behind him, he saw Xiao standing at the railing, watching him go, her hair billowing about her arms and shoulders. She looked like an angel against the black canvass of the night, an angel dressed in white, with white skin. Too white, he noticed, frowning. There was something unnatural about it. She was so white he was convinced she could envy the moon and the stars above.  
  
So white, in fact, that she was practically...glowing. 


	2. Lives Unforgotten

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SURRENDER by Tina 

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1.0 - Lives Unforgotten

Four years later…

"Where _is _he?" Kazuya Mishima asked himself as he sat in front of his desk in the living room of his apartment, staring blankly into the laptop's computer screen. The room around him was dark, save for the bit of light from the computer. Papers, books and maps were strewn everywhere, over the floor and the couch and the coffee table, notebooks with scribbled on pages of names, places and numbers, all things that meant nothing to him. 

It was an old news paper article he'd found on the Internet that he was looking at, not one bit different from the one he had lying on the desk beside his laptop. The article was dated back to almost two years ago. It'd made the front page in Tokyo, Japan, a tragic car accident off a dangerous cliff on the highway, just ten miles south of the city limits of Brisbane, Australia. There was a picture of the car next to the article, which looked more like a heap of molten iron and metal than anything else.

The owner and suspected driver of the vehicle on that fated night had been identified. Though there was no physical evidence, as it'd been completely wrecked from the inside out, which was quite clear from the black-and-white photograph shown, leaving practically nothing but the melted, twisted skeleton of the car, it was held in strong beliefs that the victim had died. 

  
There'd been a storm that night, and a quite fierce one, too. Wind, thunder, lighting, rain—the whole works—making a nasty mess for anyone who decided to go out driving that night. The roads were slick with water, the site of the incident taking place on a curb built into a steep cliff beside the sea, a popular scene for car accidents. The driver had lost control of the car, sped through the guardrail and plummeted to the bottom below, which had been a good hundred feet or more. A direct head-on collision with the rocky shore, the engine had exploded and fire engulfed the car, but was eventually put out by the tide, and by the time the city police and fire department arrived, they discovered that the body was gone.

City police officers guessed that the driver had been swept out to sea on the incoming tide and drown, though they had a good idea that he'd most likely died even before then. No one could have survived that fall, they'd said. Not anyone _human_, anyway. But Kazuya knew better. He knew that the victim had been anything but human. That victim was his son, Jin Kazama, his other half to the Devil gene. Speaking from personal experience, Kazuya had survived many incidents that should have cost him his life, and if he'd learned anything, he knew his son would be able to do the same. 

That is, if the crash was real. It seemed far-fetched to think otherwise, but Kazuya had discovered from the last tournament that his son was certainly not a fool. He was pretty sure Jin (and Heihachi, for that matter) didn't know he was alive, but he was still aware of his grandfather, who was just as threatening to his existence as he was, if not more. He knew Heihachi Mishima would stop at nothing to achieve his task, much like himself. And this was a clever move on Jin's part, Kazuya admitted, to throw him off his track. He'd made the situation plausible and left few holes for questioning. 

Though Heihachi may be fooled, Kazuya was beyond logic thinking. There was still a chance. He refused to believe Jin was dead unless he saw the corpse with his own eyes. He'd spent too many years pinning over this plan to give up over such a trivial casualty as this. He'd get his revenge, gain complete control of this awesome power that both he and his father so greatly desired, and take back the life that was so unjustly stolen from him. 

It wouldn't be easy, however, for he was up against Jin and Heihachi himself, and both were extremely difficult opponents. He'd have to beat Heihachi to him, and then defeat Jin himself. 

True, he'd been defeated by both before, but Kazuya believed he'd survived them for a reason. He was destined to bring their downfalls, it was written in the stars that he would rise above them and take over all. It had to be. Otherwise, why else would he be here?

But first he'd have to find Jin. He had to find him and capture him.

That alone would be a great and wearing test on his side of the Devil gene. 

  
* * * * *

  
A mysterious, hooded figure stood at the edge of a tall forest, a black canvass of trees towering behind him. His face was well hidden in the deep cavity of his hood, but two rich, crimson glowing eyes shone from the shadows. 

They were gazing at the busy city ahead. It was late at night, the earth's natural lights dimmed until morn, and the artificial ones switched on and glaring brightly in their full glory. Even from this great distance, his ears could pick up the sounds of cars and buses commuting about the maze of streets.

Tokyo. 

He was finally home.

Sliding his hood down on to his shoulders, he brushed his long bangs away from his face so that he could get a better look at the city, for this was the only time he'd be able to really stop and get a good look at it. 

As much as he hated to admit it, it was as much home to him as the forest behind him was while he'd been living with his mother. It was where he was first trained to become a fighter under a great master, his grandfather, where he was educated in one of the best schools the country had to offer, where he discovered this curse that forever tainted his life, where he'd met _her_. 

__

Her, the only girl that had meant anything to him in his life. The one girl who'd managed to bring him out of his shell and show him the joys of this world. The only who lit up his day with a simple smile and the soft sound of her laughter. 

Her, the one girl who's life he feared he might destroy tonight. 

* * * * *

  
Perhaps it was the music, loud, booming, irritating from the large speakers placed selectively about the room, or perhaps it was the lighting, dark, shadowy, fluorescent colors of the rainbow flashing off the white walls. It could have been the dancing, clustered, wild, bodies pressed together, swaying, grinding. Or maybe it was the people in the room, some strangers, some friends, all either standing, dancing or sitting. It could even have been the room in general; large but not roomy enough for all these people, messy, smelling of greasy food, stale beer and body odor. 

Whatever it was, it wasn't allowing her to have a good time. Sitting on a large, plush couch in the back of the room, Xiao sat nursing a plastic cup of beer in her hands, only half listening to the attractive Japanese boy sitting beside her, partly because she could barely hear anything he was saying and partly because she wasn't particularly interested. 

He, on the other hand, was quite interested, she noted somewhat distastefully. He was a friend of one of Miharu's friends. He didn't even live around here. He was visiting from his hometown in Nagoya. From what she'd heard of their one-sided conversation, he seemed like a pretty nice guy. There was nothing she could really find fault with, other than that his eyes were far too large. They made her feel uncomfortable, like at any moment those huge eyes of his would just lunge out at her and swallow her up. 

Taking one last sip of her beer, she set it on a nearby plane-glass table. "I'm sorry," she said in what she hoped sounded like a sincere, apologetic tone. "I have to go."

Those wide, wide eyes widened even more, despite her disbelief at their ability to do so. "Already?" he asked, clearly disappointed. He glanced down at his wristwatch. "It's not even eleven o' clock."

"I know," she said, grabbing her coat and purse off the armrest and standing from the couch. She searched her mind for a good lie. "But I have to go to work early tomorrow morning."

"On a Sunday?" he asked, standing on his feet, as well.

"Yes," she said certainly, her lie coming out as easily and fluidly as though she'd been born with that as her sole purpose. 

"Oh." She could tell he was looking for an argument to make her stay. 

"You want to give me your number? I'll give you a call sometime." Another lie. She'd never call him, she'd never even consider it, but then she was desperate to get out of there. 

"All right." 

She rummaged through her purse until she found a scrap piece of paper and pen. Handing the two items to him, she waited patiently as he jotted down his name and telephone number. 

"Okay," she said once he'd finished, giving him a fake smile. "I'll give you a call when I get the chance."

She didn't wait for a word of confirmation, she didn't even say good-bye to him as she turned and starting walking through the crowd of dancing people. The crowd was thicker than she'd anticipated; she had to push and shove some of her way through.

She was almost home free when she heard Miharu call her name. "Xiao, leaving already?"

Xiao stopped at the door, turning around and facing her friend. "Yes," she said. "I'm getting tired and I don't feel so well."

Miharu frowned, staggering slightly under the weight of a tall, bleached blond man leaning on her. Xiao recognized him. His name was Tatsuya, Miharu's latest "boy toy". Her friend's frown quickly faded as Tatsuya bent over and whispered something into her ear, causing a mad stir of giggles to erupt from her. They were both drunk. She could make out the glossiness of their eyes when the lights flashed over them and could smell the strong stench of alcohol on their breath. Suddenly Xiao felt the urge to throw up.

"All right, well, bye," she said quickly, turning.

"Hold up!" Miharu called after her. "Do you need a ride home?"

Yeah, right, she scoffed inwardly. Like she'd get in a car with her best friend in her current state. "That's okay, I'll take the subway."

After exchanging quick good-byes and Miharu promising to call her tomorrow, Xiao left. The party had taken place in room C2 on the third floor of a six-story apartment building. She took the elevator down to the first floor and then headed for the exit. 

When Xiao opened the double glass doors leading to the outside world, strong gusts of wind came sailing towards her. She stopped on the sidewalk, finding relief in the cold, moist air blowing against her over-heated skin. 

Dark storm clouds obscured the sky, droplets of rain falling from them and descending to the earth. It was like an answer to a prayer. Her clothes were getting wet, as she hadn't put on her coat yet, but she didn't care. She held her arms out, as if embracing the air; her coat draped over one arm, and lifted her face to the sky. 

She wasn't sure how long she stood like that, making a spectacle of herself, lost in her own thoughts, in the soothing caress of nature's tears, and neither did she care. Her reverie was brought to an abrupt end, however, when a yellow taxi came whizzing past at high speed, driving straight through a large, deep puddle beside the curb. 

Xiao shrieked, horrified, as an inevitable splash of water from the puddle came spraying up and showered her from head to toe. She spat and sputtered at the disgusting liquid, icy cold and tasting of dirt and mud and God knows what else that could be contaminated in it. Great, just _great_. When she'd been seeking a way of cooling herself down, this was hardly what she'd had in mind. She was thoroughly drenched, including her coat, which, sadly, would be of no use to her now. 

Disgruntled, Xiao pushed her dripping hair away from her face, tossed her coat around her shoulders to hide the current state of her white blouse, which was almost as good as transparent now, and began trudging down the sidewalk towards the subway station. 

It took her about fifteen minutes to walk to the station. Unfortunately, she'd arrived a little late, and the double glass doors were just beginning to close, the train getting ready to leave, when she ran up, and she just barely managed to squeeze herself inside before they closed in on her. 

Xiao chose an empty seat at the back of the carriage. It was rather empty tonight, she noticed somewhat gratefully, though she couldn't bring herself to care too much. She picked at her shirt, displeased at how it clung to her skin, molded itself right to every curve she possessed. 

She felt someone watching her and looked up to find a middle aged man dressed in a business suit sitting in the row across from her about three seats away. He was watching her intently, without shame, clearly taking pleasure in her situation. Normally, she would have mustered a snippy remark for the pervert, but tonight she didn't feel she had the energy to do so, and instead settled for wrapping her coat more firmly around herself. 

It was all beginning to toll up, she realized. Between school and projects at the art gallery and finding work, not to mention trying to keep up with what little she had for a social life nowadays, she was drained. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. It was always late to bed from either a last minute project or a casual outing with friends or returning from yet another decline to a job offer, and early to rise the next morning so she wouldn't be stuck behind a long line at the local coffee house to get her much needed dose of caffeine-infested espresso to get her through the day. But, thankfully, it was already second semester and spring vacation was coming up in a few weeks. Hopefully she could rest then. 

It was another half-hour before they came to her stop, and she practically leapt from her seat and bolted for the doors. Their metallic, automatic hinges caught and the doors slid open with a loud whoosh, raw, cold air from the stone tunnels washing over her already chilled body. Xiao bundled herself deeper under her coat and made a dash for the stairs that would lead to the world above. 

Xiao's apartment was only a block north from the subway. She practically jogged down the street and across the pedestrian crosswalk to the tall building that housed her home. Xiao liked her little apartment. She and Miharu were neighbors in this large, old brick building. It wasn't so pretty on the outside, with its fading red bricks, its mud and dirt stains close to the pavement and its ugly tiled roof, but her little nook in the left corner of the building was small and cozy and gave a nice view of the city park. 

She used her key and took the elevator to the fifth floor, three floors down from being at the top. It had to be as old as the building itself, for it moaned and groaned and took its own sweet time to get to her floor, with an occasional flicker of lights in protest. Taking the stairs would no doubt have been quicker, but, ever the slacker, why would she when there was a far-from-perfectly functioning elevator in the house? 

The soft dinging of the bell signaled her arrival to the fifth floor. The doors opened only halfway before they stuck and Xiao had to push them the rest of the way (they'd been broken for months now, but her landlord had yet to get them fixed). 

She walked down to the corner and approached apartment door E10. Grabbing for her keys once again, with the warming thought of a nice, hot shower to calm her fresh in her mind, she reached for the doorknob. She noticed something strange, however, that stopped her from fully executing her motions.

The door was already unlocked. 

Xiao stared at the knob, a feeling of uneasiness overcoming her. She'd locked the door before she left, hadn't she? She was pretty sure she had; she was usually good about things like that. 

But then…would that mean that someone had _broken _in? It wasn't unlikely, she supposed, though she wouldn't really know because this has never happened to her before. What if they were still inside? What if she were to walk in on them right as she opened the door? What if they were armed? 

Xiao pressed her ear against the door, listening for any sounds of movement. She heard none. 

Dozens of thoughts and questions filled her mind. What should she do? Should she go inside and see for sure? Should she go directly to the front desk and call the police? What if they escaped before the police came? 

"Oh, c'mon," Xiao whispered to herself, her voice surprisingly calm and steady. "You didn't spend years of training to back down to something like this." 

When she reached for the door handle again, her hand was shaky with nerves, and it rattled audibly. Xiao cursed angrily, bringing her other hand in to steady the other. Slowly, she turned the knob. She pushed the on the door with her hip, and slowly, slowly it creaked open. 

Her hands still wrapped around the handle, she stepped cautiously into the darkened room, her eyes straining to see. She could hardly see a damned thing. She was suddenly aware of how frightened she was. The small room of what she knew from instinct was her living room was nothing but a black mass, except for the small trail of light that spilled in from the hallway. She berated herself for having closed the blinds before she left; if she hadn't, maybe she'd at least be able to see where she was going. 

The sound of foot steps alarmed her and she turned in the direction from which it came, immediately releasing the door and adjusting herself into her fighting stance. She could just make out an outline of a tall figure standing in front of her kitchen. 

"Stop where you are," she said, again, her voice surprisingly calm despite her apprehensive emotions gnawing away at her insides. "Don't move."

She felt it move before actually seeing it. An arm rising at its side, reaching for something on the wall.

Xiao managed to keep her expression neutral, though deep down she was confused by his actions. Was he going to attack or obey? She didn't know what to do. Silence filled the area.

Suddenly there was a loud click, and light filled the room.

Xiao gasped, nearly stumbling backward in stunned disbelief. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible; she had to be looking at a ghost. 

"Ji—!"


	3. His Return

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SURRENDER by Tina 

  
A Note from Tina: Wow, I'm working fast here, four parts to this story in three days! Yay! Anyway, just as a note to all who happen to read my story, I know pretty much little to nothing about modern Japanese culture. You'll notice that so far my story is taking place in Tokyo, and—well, just don't be surprised if it comes out sounding more like an America-Tokyo, if you know what I mean. Also, I'm uploading two chapters at once. Those who read my story, I'm sorry; I have a college course program I'm going to be attending for the next three weeks, and it'll be a long wait before I can update more. 

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2.0 – His Return

Jin ran forward and wrapped a large, thick hand around Xiao's mouth, silencing her before she could finish her cry. He whirled her around and pulled her firmly against him, sliding an arm around her waist to keep her from flailing and struggling to get away. He watched her small face pale, noticed the dark streaks of what he was guessing was mud on her cheeks, her dark eyes, bleary and blood-shot, widen in fright, her smooth lips quiver under his palm. 

"If I let go, will you promise not to scream?" he whispered into her ear, leaning down close so that his breath tickled her skin. He felt her damp hair against his cheek, smelled the dirt and filth. 

She nodded her head vigorously, her hands grabbing at his wrist.

Jin released her, slowly, steadily, making no quick movements. He'd known Xiao would be startled to find him here. Under different circumstances, he'd have waited outside her apartment before she got home. He hadn't liked the idea of jumping her in the safety of her own personal abode, but he couldn't risk staying out in the open for too long. Not that it would have mattered, he added silently, she'd still have freaked out, anyway. 

Her hair was a mess, wild and wet and falling in black tangles past her slender shoulders. "Jin?" she blinked. Once, twice, four times, as though she weren't sure if she was seeing him clearly. 

"Xiao," he said. He didn't know what else to say. 

She hadn't changed much over the years, really. Her looks had just matured. Gone were the playful pigtails and vibrantly colored dresses. Now she wore her black tresses long, at least halfway down her back, and she wore more conservative clothing—a silk blouse that would be off-white if it weren't soiled in a dirty gray color and a pair of black loose fitting jeans. She was still the same size, same shape, that he remembered. She still had the same cute, little face, only a bit thinner, he noted, with its deep brown eyes—though older and more tired looking than he recalled—straight pert nose and soft cheeks. 

"Oh, my God," she gasped. She stepped closer to him, raised a hand to touch the side of his face. "Jin, is it really you?" 

Jin nodded. 

"But—why? How? You…you're supposed to be…"

He was tempted to finish the statement for her, but for some reason he felt that that would only upset her more.

She covered her mouth with her hands. "After all these years… I thought you were… But the papers said… You never even…" Her voice was extremely muffled and he couldn't make out everything she said. 

Suddenly she dropped her hands. He saw anger and rage written on her face and she looked like she was about to lunge at him. He'd expected her next action. Hell, he'd even counted on it. She slapped him hard across the face. 

"How _dare _you," she hissed, her eyes glaring daggers at him. "Don't you _ever _scare the shit out of me like that again." 

Jin said nothing. He felt the sting of her slap against his right cheek. He hadn't stopped her because he figured he deserved it after what he'd put her through after all these years. 

Xiao had quicker mood swings than he'd ever seen. One minute she looked ready to kill him, the next she looked like she was about to throw up. "I-I need t-to sit down," she said shakily. 

Jin remained where he was as Xiao walked over to a sofa in the living room and sat down. He watched her lean forward on the cushions, propping her elbows on her bent knees and resting her head in her hands. For a while she said nothing, and Jin took that as an opportunity to think of what to say next.

He knew she'd have a lot of questions, most of which he wouldn't be able to answer. He looked over at the pile of mechanical devices resting on her kitchen counter. Perhaps he should start off by telling her about those. The first thing he'd done when he broke into her apartment was check it over for bugging units—cameras, microphones and such. He'd found two microphones placed in her telephones, one in the kitchen and one in her bedroom, and there'd been one camera placed in the entry way, scanning a good part of her kitchen, living and dining room. 

Before he could bring the matter up, however, Xiao lifted her head and gazed up at him, a serious expression painted on her face, her eyes searching his. "I don't know what to say to you," she said honestly.

"You don't have to say anything," he said. "Listen to me, Xiao." She winced at hearing him say her name, realized it shook her to hear it after not having done so for several years. "I need—"

"You're supposed to be…dead," she interrupted him. Her eyes bore into his, but he had a feeling she wasn't really seeing him. She was too wrapped up in her thoughts. "I-I read it in the newspapers. Y-you died in a car accident going around a bend in the highway—your car crashed into the sea…" She looked to him for some verbal confirmation, but he wouldn't give. She had enough evidence to the contrary standing before her. "How can you possibly be alive?

"I attended your funeral, damn it!" she exclaimed suddenly, slamming a fist into her knee. "I watched them put your casket in the ground. There's…there's just no way—"

Jin hadn't known about the funeral. That was no doubt Heihachi's doing. Even if he didn't believe the papers, he'd have to give some show of mourning and compassion for the public's eye. After Jin's triumph over his grandfather in the last tournament, word had some how gotten out about Heihachi's illegal top secret experiments, practically abolishing any good image he had manifested for himself. _What _those experiments were was still unknown, as it'd undoubtedly been decided that it was too disturbing for the public to handle. Only those who'd been involved in the experiments and Heihachi's true, loyal followers still offered him support. He was still a successful international businessman, regardless, but now he was looked down upon by the majority of Japan. 

"Lies," he said without any emotion. "All lies."

Xiao blanched. "Lies? How can they be lies? They found your car, it was completely destroyed," she was rambling now. "The police said there was no chance of survival." 

"Fake," he said simply. 

"But—"

"There was no body, Xiao. No body, meaning no death."

"But they said you'd drifted out to—" Revelation dawned on her and she gasped. 

"_I _did it. It was all me. It wasn't real." 

He could watch the scenario he'd given her play out in her mind's eye. "You? But why? I mean—how could you pull that off?"

Jin sighed heavily. This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

Xiao jumped from the sofa. She fast walked into the kitchen and went for the sink. Grabbing herself a glass out of one of the cabinets, she poured herself some water. She gulped it down hastily in big, loud gulps, water dribbling down her chin and neck. When she finished she slammed the glass down on the counter. It was then that she noticed the bugging units.

"What are those?" she asked.

"I found those in your apartment," he told her. "You were bugged."

"Bugged? That's not possible."

"Yes it is. I took the liberty of taking them down for you." For himself, really, he amended mentally. 

"But—who? Why?"

"I can't tell you that."

Xiao frowned. She knew that phrase all too well. "Oh, no. No you don't. You're not going to pull this secretive shit on me now. I deserve to know what's going on."

"You're right," he admitted. "You do. But unfortunately I can't tell you what you want to know."

She was angry, he could see that plainly. And who could blame her? He'd been lying to her for over four years now. So far, she'd handled the situation amazingly. He'd expected his return to be much more dramatic with her for some reason, basing on how he knew Xiao to be from when she was younger, but dramatic was hardly the word he'd use to describe this. 

She closed her eyes, taking a few deep, calming breaths. "Okay, so let me get this straight," she said. "Over the past, what, four years, since you've been gone, two years in between you decide to play dead? Now, all of a sudden you're just…_alive_, and you show up at my apartment, pulling down bugs from my _home_… This doesn't make any sense." 

"I don't expect it to for you."

"Oh, so this all makes perfect sense to you, then. Okay, whatever, as long as you know what's going on, I guess it's okay that I'm walking around in the freaking dark," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Jin hadn't seen this side of her before. Xiao was never sarcastic; she was always honest and open. 

"Xiao, listen to me, if I'd had it my way I would've never come back. Trust me, the last thing I want is to make your life more complicated."

"Well, it's a little late for that, isn't it?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "What is it then? Why have you come back?"

"Because…" This next part was hard for him. No matter how many times he spent rehearsing it, he always bottomed out when it came to asking for help, especially from Xiao. For as long as he could remember, it'd always been her coming to him, never the other way around. After his mother died, he promised himself he'd never rely on others, that he would always be able to take care of himself. And though he wasn't really asking for much, he hated to do it. "I need your help," he said finally. 

Xiao blinked. She didn't bother to hide her surprise. She, like himself, knew how he was about this. "With what?" she asked after a few moment's awkward silence. 

"I just need a place to stay for tonight, or maybe a couple of nights. I don't know yet. I've been traveling for the past two days with no night's sleep and I'm exhausted. I just need some time to rest, and then I'll be out of here."

Jin watched her face. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, what she was feeling. This was something he'd have to get used to. He was accustomed to reading her emotions like an open book. Looking at her was as good as reading a blank slate as of now. 

"Why me?" she asked.

"What?" He was confused.

"Why me? Why couldn't you stay at a hotel or something?"

Jin felt a pang of hurt. Was she turning her back on him? He searched her eyes. This wasn't the Xiao he knew. This was a…stranger. The Xiao he knew would never abandon the ones she loved. Then he realized something. She was baiting him. She was trying to fool him into giving something away. 

"I have nothing, Xiao," he said, and it was the truth. From here on out, he vowed, everything he told her would be truth. What he couldn't tell her he just wouldn't say. "No money, nothing."

She walked over to the entryway, picked up her purse off the floor, where she'd dropped it, and took out her wallet. "How much? I'll loan you the money. You can pay me back when you can."

Damn her. "No." He shook his head. "I can't. I can't let you register me into a hotel. I can't go anywhere where there are a lot of people."

Again that blank, emotionless expression. It was almost frustrating. "Why not?"

A deep, heavy sigh. "I'm being followed, Xiao. And don't ask me by what or whom, because I can't tell you that."

Her face softened a bit. "Are you in danger?"

"Only if I'm out in the open."

She stared at him, no doubt debating whether or not to trust him. After a while, she finally said, "Fine. You can stay here."

* * * * *

Heihachi Mishima walked into the computer head quarters of the Mishima Financial Empire building. "Well?" he asked the chief computer operator's specialist. "Anything yet?"

  
The man swiveled around in his chair, his round, bald head lifting to gaze up at the tall, elder man, his eyes blinking behind the large, wire framed glasses. "No, sir, nothing."

"Are you sure you checked everywhere? Every hotel, every inn, every…I don't know—hospital?"

"Yes, sir," the man replied, turning to take an affirming glance at his computer screen. "He's not registered anywhere. It's like the papers said, he's dead."

"You fool. I didn't become the leader of this company by believing petty lies such as this. He's alive, and he's hiding. Smartly, too, I might add, not registering anywhere."

"Yes, sir."

"There are no reports of anyone seeing him? Or anything unusual?"

"No, sir, none." 

"This is getting ridiculous. We've been hunting him down for four years now. I've sent out my finest men to search for him, and several times we've come close to nailing him, only for him to always be one step ahead of us somehow. I don't understand it. The boy may be clever, but he's not a genius."

"It was easier when we had a live record of him, sir, but now that he's supposedly 'dead', it's harder to track him down. No one thinks to look for him."

"I realize that, Yamada. If I could alert political officials, I would. Jin's death was a blow to this company. A lot of people blame _me_ for his death. If this were to surface, God only knows what could happen next."

"Of course. But give it time. He can't stay in hiding forever."

"Let's hope not," Heihachi said, his tone of voice almost threatening, "for your sake." 


	4. Picking up the Pieces

****

SURRENDER by Tina 

  


****

3.0 – Picking up the Pieces…  


Xiao awoke the following morning to the loud, shrill ringing of her telephone. She answered it on the third ring. "Mm, yeah?" she spoke groggily into the receiver, blinking at the sunlight that was already filtering in through her window blinds. 

"Can I speak to Ayumi?" came the reply on the other end. She didn't recognize the voice.

Xiao glanced at the alarm clock on her bed stand. Whoever Ayumi was, she felt sorry for her. It was only six o' clock in the morning. "Sorry, bud, but I think you've got the wrong number."

Whoever it was that called—a guy—apologized for the mistake and she hung up. She closed her eyes, rolling over on to her side and burying her face in her soft, feather pillows, trying to catch the last remnants of sleep. 

Sleep wouldn't come, though. She was wide-awake now, though her eyelids were heavy and her body was still relaxed. She could use the rest; she was up late last night with Jin—past one o' clock in the morning—making feeble attempts to drill him out of his shell and feeding him left over take-out food from her refrigerator, which he ate plenty and fast, as though he were starved. 

Jin… She still couldn't believe he was back, much less _alive_. She'd never forgive him for deceiving her like that and worrying her half to death, but the was relieved nonetheless, as much as she hated to admit it. 

He had a lot of nerve, too, barging in on her life like that, especially when she was getting along so well without him. She'd accepted what she'd believed to be the truth at the time, moved on and gotten over him, and then he just pops up out of nowhere and messes everything up. She wasn't prepared for this, wasn't ready to welcome him back into her life. 

Whether he knew it or not, he'd hurt her badly when he'd left her four years ago, though not entirely just on a friendship level. Of course, he was a dear friend and trust worthy confidant first and foremost, but as few relationships go, this one developed into more. At least, on her part. She was pretty sure that he wasn't aware of how she felt, how he'd broken her heart all those years ago. 

She'd had a major crush on him for years, ever since she met him when she moved into the Mishima manor for the third King of Iron Fist Tournament. That is, until four years ago. After that night on her balcony, she swore to herself never again. Never again would she allow herself to be hurt like this. 

She'd done a pretty good job, for the most part. She'd managed to ignore her feelings for him, even date a few other guys, though nothing ever really happened between them. But now she wasn't so sure. She'd been easy on him last night, and that wasn't a good sign to her. 

She didn't know what to make of his situation, either. His faking death, hiding out at her place for a few days from unknown enemies—though only to her—and then finding bugs planted throughout her apartment. What did it all mean? What was so horrible that he couldn't tell her? 

Xiao turned onto her back, growling in frustration. Thinking like this wasn't getting her anywhere, and it certainly wasn't helping her get back to sleep. Sighing in defeat, Xiao threw off her covers and slipped out of bed. 

She'd been so tired last night that she hadn't bothered to take a shower and wash all that grime and filth off. (When she'd explained her appearance at Jin's request over take-out, she was convinced he'd come close to laughing at her. It was a good thing he hadn't; otherwise she'd have bopped him hard over the head.) She stripped the sheets from her bed and threw them in the washer, then headed into the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. 

After that she threw on a fresh pair of clothes—a plain gray T-shirt and faded jeans—and combed her hair, tying it back into a simple, long ponytail. She then crept down the hallway, into the kitchen, where she glanced at the clock and figured she should leave Jin a note, in case he woke up while she was gone, then went into the living room, where Jin was soundly sleeping on her pullout sofa. And there she stopped, gazing down at his slumbering form. 

He still looked the same, she noted. He still possessed the same handsome, sharp, masculine features—a firm, square jaw, a long, straight nose, high cheekbones and those characteristic eyebrows. The same, wild, spiky black hair, though now it was a bit longer, in need of a good trim, but she bet it'd still feel as soft as the finest silk to the touch as it had years ago. The same golden tanned skin pulled tautly over a lean but muscular frame. 

The only thing she wasn't used to seeing was the stubble of beard growth on his chin. The Jin she remembered from days of old was always had clean, but and shaven. Though if he'd been on the run for so long, like he'd claimed to be, she doubted he'd had much time to shave. 

Xiao shook her head, smiling stupidly to herself. If one thing was for certain, she still thought he was the most gorgeous man to ever walk the face of this planet. There was no denying that. 

Turning away, she crossed over to her closet in the entryway, grabbing a light jacket, her coat from last night (to be taken to the dry-cleaners) and her purse from her closet, and left the apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. 

* * * * *

To Jin's surprise, Xiao's pullout sofa bed was much more comfortable than he'd expected. He'd slept like a baby, not waking up once during the night, something he hadn't done in a long, _long_ time. But, then again, maybe it was just being in a bed that made the difference. While constantly being on the run, he hadn't had one of those in a long while, either. He felt almost fully restored—which was an exaggeration, really, as he imagined he hadn't actually slept _that_ long (he'd always been a morning bird). At least one more night of this and hopefully he'd be fit to set off again. 

He climbed off the mattress, stretched his limbs, fixed the sheets on his bed, and then folded it back into the sofa—careful to do it quietly incase Xiao wasn't yet awake—and put the cushions back in their rightful places. 

He walked down to the bathroom across from Xiao's bedroom. It was surprisingly plain, he realized. He'd expected soft, feminine shades either of pink, lavender or peach, but everything here was either white or blue. He picked up a bar of soap from a dish placed on the sink and sniffed it. Whew, at least she hadn't given up on feminine scents. He went over to the shower and inspected the shampoos she had stocked. Yup, floral and citrus shampoos and conditioners lined the wrack she had hanging from the shower spout. 

Turning back to the sink, Jin filled his hands with cold water and splashed it over his face. He then took a tube of toothpaste, squirted a small amount on his finger and scrubbed his teeth, then gargled some strong peppermint mouthwash. Once finished, he inspected himself in the mirror hanging on the wall in front of him. 

He could use a shave, he thought, running his fingertips over the rough patch of hair growing on his jaw. Bending over, he checked the cabinet placed under the sink. Pads, tampons, cleaning supplies…aha, razors. He took one out of the package and looked at it—it was a two bladed, shocking pink plastic thing. Damn. There was a container of shaving scream down below, too. He picked it up, cracked the top off and gave it a whiff. _Ugh, no thank you_. 

Perhaps he was being a bit silly about this. After all, who would know he used women products? It wasn't like he was going anywhere in public. The only one who might notice would be Xiao—

Scratch that. That was reason enough _not_ to use them. If he knew anything about Xiao, he knew she'd never let him live this down. He was a man, damn it, he had his pride and ego to protect.

He put the stuff back in the cabinet and exited the bathroom. Silently making his way to Xiao's bedroom door, he slowly turned the knob and pushed it open. She wasn't there. Her bed was empty, stripped completely of its bedding. He frowned, confused. Where'd she go? He hadn't seen her in the living room or kitchen when he'd woken up. 

Jin went back out into the living room. He pulled the blinds open on the windows—only just a bit, though. It was daylight and the streets of Tokyo were busy. He felt an urge to walk out of the apartment and look around, but knew he couldn't. 

Turning away from the windows, he walked into the kitchen, figuring he'd occupy himself up with a pot of coffee. He found a note lying on the kitchen table. It was from Xiao. She'd left around seven (he glanced at the clock, it was after eight now), and she said she'd be gone for a few hours doing some errands. Fair enough, he thought, he could amuse himself fine without her around. 

Rummaging through the cupboards, Jin searched for coffee grounds to use in her coffee machine. After about ten minutes of searching, he found one at the very back of one cupboard. Its lid was covered in dust and he could tell that it hadn't been used in a while. He blew the dust off and set it on the counter. Peeling the lid off, he inspected the brown particles inside. They appeared to be all right, so he grabbed a filter and poured some in, then inserted it into the machine, filled it with water and turned it on. 

Minutes ticked by as Jin waited for his coffee to brew. He went into the living room and watched television for a while, though there was nothing of interest on—sitcoms, talk shows, soap operas, the weather channel. 

Finally, his coffee was ready and Jin went back into the kitchen and poured himself a mug. He blew off a cloud of steam, and took a sip—and then spitted it back out. That had to be the worst coffee he'd ever tried. Picking up the tin of coffee grounds, he checked the label. 

__

Expiration date: October 12, 2002. Well, that explains it, he mused inwardly. It was the second week of April, of the year 2003. This coffee was stale. 

* * * * * 

Xiao arrived back home at quarter after nine. She'd spent most of her time in town struggling at the dry-cleaners and a coffeehouse. Though it was Sunday, the Sabbath, a day of religious meditation and rest, it didn't seem to slow the city goers down any. 

Her usual dry-cleaners had been too full, and so she'd taken her business elsewhere. The next closest—and cheapest—one was owned by an immigrant Indonesian family that didn't speak very much Japanese, and she'd spent a half-hour trying to calm a large, angry woman with a face red enough to envy the ripest of beets, whom she'd some how offended without meaning to. 

After that, she'd gone to pick herself up an espresso and something for her and Jin for breakfast. Again, you'd think it was Monday morning, with all the people lined up to order. And then finally, the ride home had been hectic (flagging down a taxi). 

"You're home," Jin said from his seat on the sofa. He was holding the TV remote, but it wasn't turned on.

"I'm home," she said, walking into the kitchen and setting her bags down on the table, her tone was cool, breezy. "It was busy this morning." She felt she didn't need to offer him an explanation, but there it was, out in the open even before she could think to stop herself.

"This is Tokyo," he said, "it's always busy."

"Anyway, have you eaten breakfast? I picked up some food while I was out." She pulled out the assortment of muffins, Danishes and croissants she'd bought from the coffeehouse. She looked at Jin and saw his questionable expression. "Of course, I don't expect you to eat all this. They had a lot of good things this morning, so I decided to bring some home to last for the week. Plus, I didn't know what you'd want." 

"Is there any chance you brought some coffee, too?" Jin came up behind her, looking hopeful.

"Yes, I did." She handed him a steaming, lidded paper cup. 

Jin accepted it in his hands. "Thank you." He took the top off and blew on it. "What have you got something against instant made coffee?"

Ah, so he'd found her old tin. She wondered how long it'd been sitting back there now. "It's not as good as this stuff," she said, taking her own cup. A thought struck her. "Did you make some?" 

"Yes. It's past its due date, you know."

"I imagine it is. I haven't used it in months."

"So I discovered." 

"You smell minty," she observed, though there was accusation to her statement. "Did you use my—Oh, drat. I meant to buy you some things while I was out. I completely forgot. You should have seen the mess I got myself into this morning. It was—"

Xiao recollected her experience with him from town with the Indonesian woman. She was aware that this bit of sharing was an opening, a step to warming up to him, which was something she wasn't quite ready to do. After all, she was still angry with him—or, at least, she was supposed to be—but that was getting harder to maintain the more she saw of him. 

She was surprised at how easy it was, to fall back into old patterns. She felt so comfortable around him, so calm and relaxed, almost like he was like the same old Jin she'd grown to respect and care for as a friend, like he'd never even left her in the first place. In fact, if she hadn't stopped herself, she imagined she'd have kept babbling on and on.

"Ahem," she said, clearing her throat over her cup, her eyes studying the swirls of coffee and scream and foam. "If you'll excuse me, I have some things to do." She got up to leave, taking her drink and blueberry muffin with her.

"Xiao, wait," he called after her.

She stopped. "What?"

Jin looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face, his long bangs falling over his brow and shielding his eyes from her. He was hesitant, but she waited patiently. "Nothing," he said. 


	5. and Putting Them Back Together

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SURRENDER by Tina 

A Note from Tina: Hey, I'm back! It's been a while, I know. Thank you to all the kind people who have reviewed my story. I'm glad that you enjoy it so far. This next chapter's kind of long; the story finally starts to kick up here. Anyway, without further ado, here's chapter four! Enjoy! ^^

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4.0 – …and Putting Them Back Together

Jin knew the moment he'd broken into her apartment that this was a big mistake. He'd known it wouldn't be the least bit easy with her, that things would be rocky—"rocky" being an understatement—between them, but experiencing the real thing was entirely different from simply acknowledging it. 

For most of the afternoon, Xiao had been ignoring him. She'd spent a great deal of time hiding in her bedroom, doing what, he didn't know. At one point he'd heard her folding fresh clothes from the laundry, and later the clunking and scraping of furniture being moved around. But when he'd stopped in front of her door, he'd found her sitting in a chair by the wall, frowning down at the floor, apparently in deep thought, undoubtedly about him and what she was going to do with him. She'd caught sight of him, though, and fled, scrambling out the fire escape by her window and down the stairs. 

Jin sighed, tired of this little game of hide-and-seek. Entering her room, he crossed the expanse of floor to the window she'd climbed out of and peered out. She was one flight of stairs down, sitting on the small, square platform at the top of another set. Luckily, the fire escape was over a deserted alley, so there'd be little risk of anyone seeing him. Quietly, Jin crawled over the sill and onto the steps. His feet made a soft clang against the iron steps, and he was sure Xiao had heard him, but she didn't appear to care. 

He descended down the steps onto her platform and sat down beside her. "Xiao," he said softly. 

Xiao had her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms crossed over the caps and her chin resting on top. She didn't look at him. "Yes, Jin?" Her tone was dull, uninterested. 

"We need to talk."

"Again?"

"Yes."

She sat up, stretching out her legs and placing her arms at her sides. "Fine. Talk."

Jin nodded. He took a deep breath, looked out towards the horizon over Tokyo's many sky scrapers, where the sun was just beginning to set, afternoon shifting to evening, and brilliant shades of pinks, oranges and yellows tinted the sky. "I know you're angry at me for leaving you like I did those years ago, and—I know you're angry, even more so, for me feeding you lies." He shrugged his shoulders. "It's justified, I suppose—"

"You _suppose_?" 

"Let me finish." He ran a hand through his spiky black tresses. "The point is, I can't give you what you want, Xiao. You want answers—answers to things…"

"Yes, Jin. What things?" 

Jin turned his attention to her. She was studying him. "Things I can't tell you about."

Xiao sighed, rolling her eyes, clearly frustrated. "I deserve to know, Jin. This isn't about just you anymore; I'm involved too. Whoever these people are that are after you planted bugs in _my_ apartment. I don't know if you're aware, but that's a major violation of privacy. By the looks of those things, they could see what I was doing, hear what I was saying…"

"No, you're not involved. Those devices were meant for me, not you. You won't have to worry about them anymore."

"Won't they know that you're on to them, though?"

"There's a good chance. But I made sure they didn't see—or hear—that it was _me_ when I took them down. For all they know, it could have been you." He shook his head at that. "No, they aren't stupid. They'll figure it out eventually, if they haven't already by now." 

"But won't they come after you?" Jin noticed the hint of concern in her voice. It'd meant to be hidden, but he'd caught it. She tried to disguise it by turning the subject to herself, "What position does that put me in if they do? Wouldn't that endanger me?" Hurt and displeasure flashed in her eyes. She thought he was being inconsiderate of her well being.

"No. They won't hurt you. They know better than to do that." 

An awkward sense of energy passed between them. He'd only been stating the truth, but there was a certain…intimacy behind it. His protective instincts over her and Xiao's dependency were kicking in. He knew he'd go to the ends of the earth for her, and she, in turn, would trust him with her life. It was there between them, flat on the table, clear as day. Years of being apart had done nothing to diminish that. 

Jin cleared his throat, turning his eyes back to look at the sunset. "I'm sorry."

"Jin," her voice was soft, just above a whisper. "Why won't you trust me?"

"It's not a matter of trust," he said. "It's just what has to be."

"Why? What's so horrible that you think I can't handle it?"

If only she knew, he thought mildly. 

"Whose fault was it? Did you get in a fight? Was something stolen? What? What happened?" 

"Stop it, Xiao," he growled, though it sounded more like a nasty snarl to him. "Why can't you just leave it alone? Why can't you just accept the fact that_ I can't tell you anything_?" 

"Because," her voice was determined, unwavering, "I'm _sick_ of this…mess. You've been running from something for a long time, Jin. I was supposed to be your friend, your confidant, someone you could run to when you needed help, and instead you do just the opposite—you run _away_ from me." 

Jin blinked, revelation dawning on him. He hadn't realized that was how she saw it. She thought his leaving had something to do with _her_, that she hadn't been a good enough friend to keep him by her side. 

He turned quickly. She hadn't been expecting his fast movement, and couldn't hide the look of vulnerability on her face, the tears brimming in her dark eyes. _Oh, Xiao._ Before he could think about what he was doing, he raised a hand and touched the side of her face. 

"I wasn't running from you," he said gently, his eyes gazing into hers, so hauntingly beautiful, so intense. How he'd missed those eyes. "I was trying to protect you."

Xiao bit down on her bottom lip, a habit he was all too familiar with. "From what?"

From me, he wanted to say. Instead, he avoided the question, "I need you to believe me, Xiao. What I did was for you as well as for me. If I'd stayed, it'd only have led to more trouble."

She laughed, though there was no humor behind it. "More trouble than the two of us could cause?"

Jin was taken back. She was referring to their friendship before he'd left, before their friendship even blossomed, actually. They used to bicker and fight constantly. 

Jin cracked a smile at the memory. "Yes, much more." The thumb of his hand moved of its own accord, lightly caressing the smooth skin of her cheek. "And I need you to promise me, Xiao, that no matter what—no matter _what_ happens—you won't tell _anyone_ about it." 

She sighed heavily, and he knew she was accepting defeat. "Fine."

"Say it."

"I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you."

He meant to let her go, but for some reason he couldn't. She was so close, so warm and beautiful under his touch, so utterly desirable. He was suddenly reminded of the kiss they'd shared that night on her balcony, of the way her soft lips felt under his, her unique taste—the most delectable taste he'd ever experienced, sweet rain water and warmed honey and something else, something that was completely _Xiao_. 

Gravity seemed to kick in then, pulling him down towards her. His hand moved to the back of her head, threading his fingers through the soft tendrils of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. He felt her breath on his skin, hot and moist, tempting him to no end. His mouth fell open and—

"Jin…"

Xiao's voice brought him back to reality. He reeled, jumping to his feet. What the hell was he _doing_!? He'd almost kissed her—_again_. He didn't look at her, couldn't. He was too embarrassed. 

Instead, he ran back up the steps and leapt through her window, a cowardly, but nonetheless, relevant escape. 

* * * * *

Miharu walked down the aisles of a mini grocery store down town, scanning the many shelves of food in her quest to find something to make for dinner that night. She'd spent most of her day sleeping—and recovering from one hell of a hangover from the previous night—so she hadn't gotten to eat anything all day. 

Through one aisle to another she walked, snatching up random cans, boxes and packages of food she thought would be good, then putting them back on a different shelf when she found something better. Miharu wasn't much of a grocery shopper (clothes, shoes and accessories were her specialty, not food). She usually depended on Xiao to help her in that department, but tonight she was on her own, as Xiao hadn't been answering her phone this afternoon. 

By the time she reached the end of the food aisles, her arms were straining to hold her basket, which was full to the brim with things she knew she wasn't going to eat. Though, somehow, she'd ended up with more junk food in her basket than foods for a meal. Miharu chuckled to herself, shaking her head at her poor selection. Xiao would laugh too, she knew. Though they both shared a common unhealthy obsession for sweets and fattening foods, Xiao was more able to maintain a strict discipline over herself and Miharu. 

"Shit."

Miharu's head shot up. She knew that voice anywhere. It was Xiao's. Hoisting her basket over her hip, she trudged in the direction from whence the voice had come from. 

She found her in the toiletry aisle, kneeling down before a shelf of men's deodorant, where there were at least half a dozen containers spilled on the floor. Miharu's eyes widened. _Xiao_ looking at _men's_ deodorant? There was definitely something wrong with this picture. "Xiao?" she called softly. 

Xiao jumped, startled, dropping the containers of deodorant she'd been scooping into her arms on the floor once more. "Mi," she gasped. Her dark eyes blinked up at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping for food," Miharu said. "I tried calling you earlier. Your answering machine didn't pick up. Where were you?"

She watched as a thoughtful expression crossed her friend's face. "I was out," she said simply.

Miharu wasn't fooled. Xiao wasn't herself. She was too edgy. She eyed the containers of deodorant curiously. "Men's deodorant, Xiao?" She stooped down and picked up one of the containers, shaking it detestably in her hand. 

"I-I…I was just—" 

Miharu arched a brow at her friend. Offering Xiao her hands, she waited patiently as Xiao hesitantly reached up and took them in her own, then pulled her up to her feet. "You were what?" 

Xiao straightened her shirt, brushed imaginary dust off her jeans. "No, it's not what you think," she said calmly. "I was just passing through. I accidentally knocked some things over on the shelf with my basket, and—"

"What's in the basket?"

"What?"

"You heard me," Miharu said. She tried looking into the basket herself, but Xiao had it hidden behind her legs. "What're you buying here?"

"Nothing. Just some things for home."

"Oh, really?" Miharu wouldn't have it. She quickly reached around Xiao and wrenched the basket out of her hands.

"No!" Xiao exclaimed, but it was too late. Miharu peered into the basket.

She lifted up a long, cylinder can. "After shave, Xiao?" She put that back in and took out another can similar to the first. "Shaving cream." She kept going through the items. "Shampoo, soap, razors—what the hell is this, Xiao? These are all guys' things." 

"Um…"

A thought struck Miharu. It was very unlikely, but it was the only reasonable explanation she had for this. "Wait a minute, did you and that guy from last night—what's his name…?" 

Xiao screwed up her face in confusion. "Who?"

"You know, the guy from the party. Yuki's friend. I introduced him to you—"

"Oh, him," Xiao said with obvious distaste. "God, _no_. Jeez, Mi, what made you think of him?" 

"_Well_, it's the only thing that even remotely makes sense to me right now. I know _you_ aren't using men's products. And unless there's something you're not telling me, then…" 

All the while Miharu had been watching Xiao's face. She was well aware of her friend's ability to hide her emotions from people well—other people, she should say, for Xiao didn't lie to her. She _never_ lied to her. Or did she? By the look on her friend's face, as of now—nervous and uncertain—she was beginning to have her doubts. She grasped Xiao's shoulders and shook her once. 

"Xiaoyu," she said sternly, "is there something you're not telling me?" 

Xiao averted her gaze to the floor, something she rarely ever did with Miharu unless she was ashamed or was guilty of hiding something. "Please," she said quietly.

Miharu's spirits fell. So Xiao _was_ hiding something from her. "What is it, Xiao?" she asked softly.

Xiao shook her head, raven tendrils of hair falling around her face. "It's nothing, Mi. Nothing at all. Stop making such a fuss."

"Bullshit," Miharu cursed. It was one thing to hide something from her, but to intentionally lie to her? That was something else entirely. "Who are you buying all this stuff for?"

She saw the pained expression in Xiao's face. "I can't. I can't tell you, Mi."

"Why the hell not?" She demanded angrily. This was beginning to sound more and more complicated than it was supposed to. What could be the harm of telling her whom she was shopping for? 

Again, Xiao shook her head. "It's hard to explain," was all she said. 

"Try me."

"No. I promised this person I wouldn't."  
  
Miharu was furious. "Who?"

"I can't tell you that either."

"Is it someone I know?" 

Xiao held up her hands. "Mi, please, if I could tell you I would—honestly, I would. But I can't. I gave my word." 

Miharu glared at her. She didn't like this at all. It wasn't like Xiao to be so secretive around her. Surely, it must be something important if she was acting like this, but regardless, she still couldn't accept that Xiao refused to let her in on it. They'd been best friends for years. And throughout all those years, Miharu couldn't recall one time where she'd ever betrayed Xiao. 

"Please, Mi," Xiao begged, her eyes pleading with hers. 

Miharu sighed heavily. "Fine," she growled. She crossed her arms over her chest. "But you owe me big time, you understand me?"

Xiao smiled. "Yes. Thank you."

* * * * * 

Kazuya walked the streets of Tokyo late at night. It was past one o' clock in the morning. He'd just woken after having a strange dream back at his apartment, and was now taking a stroll in the cold night air to take time and ponder its meanings. He couldn't call it a nightmare, though it certainly wasn't pleasant. He'd been having the same dream for the past few years now, ever since he came into contact with Jin again at the forth King of Iron Fist Tournament. 

In fact, he was beginning to doubt that it was merely a dream. They happened too frequently and they always showed the same outcome. He was more convinced they were visions, visions of what was to come in the near future. 

He saw himself and Jin, battling, their bodies sweating with effort to defeat the other. Heihachi would be in the background, observing with mild interest, though silently rooting for Kazuya. This confused Kazuya, based on the past he had with his father. Eventually, Heihachi would enter the fight, stealthily, and tackle Jin, taking him by surprise. Kazuya would then be free to do as he pleased and summon the Devil within himself. With the Devil's rising power, he'd call upon Jin's, as well, and thus draw from him what was rightfully his. Once Jin was drained, Heihachi would throw his lifeless body to the ground. Kazuya would then transform into the Devil, high and mighty and terrifyingly powerful. He'd make the slightest of movements, a flick of his wrist, and Heihachi would drop dead on the ground next to his grandfather. And the dream would end there.

Kazuya was certain it meant something, that this was no ordinary dream or wishful fantasy. It felt too real. It made too much sense, as much as it baffled him to admit it. Heihachi and himself, working together, they'd be unstoppable, even against Jin. With his Devil powers and Heihachi's army of men, how could Jin possibly stand a chance against them? 

It was impossible, though. There was no way Heihachi would ever join forces with him. Heihachi wanted the same thing Kazuya did: ultimate power. 

But what if there was a way? What if there was a way to meet both their needs? Kazuya had never discussed matters over with his father—mostly because he hadn't had time to, on account that he was too busy fighting for his life. Nor had he wanted to either, for that matter. Until now, that is.

This dream had to be doing crazy things to his thinking process. What he was contemplating was as good as considering suicide, walking into the open clutches of his father. But he had to risk it. He had no other plan. 

But how? How could he trick Heihachi into helping him? If the dream was true, he had nothing to worry about. He would surely triumph over his father. But there was still that one little ounce of doubt. 

A movement over one of the rooftops of a building he happened to be passing caught his eye. Lifting his head to the sky, Kazuya caught a glimpse of a tall figure walking across what, in the streetlights, appeared to be the top of an old apartment building. Kazuya's eyes widened in surprise.

This surely had to be a confirmation of his dream.

The figure was Jin.

His son stopped at the edge of the building, peering down over the edge at him. He wore the same hooded jacket he'd worn during the forth tournament, but Kazuya could see his eyes glowing a deep, crimson, blood-red, so like his own. 

Kazuya smirked up at him, imaging his shock and disbelief at seeing him still alive. No matter, certainly his surprise was no match for the immense pleasure Kazuya felt at finally having found him. _Finally_, after all these years. Now was his chance. He could soar up there right now, attempt to him down right here, right now. 

But no. He couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to, even as the desire to do so burned through him, coursing through his veins and igniting the flames in his eyes. He simply couldn't. 

He saw it in Jin, too, the desire to kill him. But he, too, must have recognized the obstacle that stood in both of their ways, for he hadn't made a move as of yet, either. Neither was a match to defeat each other. How could he not see this, what with the living, breathing evidence standing before him? 

Kazuya turned. He would leave now, just like that. _Years, Kazuya, it's been years, and now you're just walking away…_ A deep, throaty voice that wasn't his own sounded within the recesses of his mind. 

No matter, Kazuya assured the voice. Now that he's alive everything will fall into place. I'll find him again. I'm sure of it. 


	6. Running Away

****

SURRENDER by Tina 

Notes to certain people:   
  
_Princess Michelle_ - Hmm, the suspense is killing you, eh? Don't worry, it'll all start coming together soon—I hope. I want to also thank you personally for all the encouragement you've given me. I look to you as a writing inspiration for my own work.   
  
_Misao Seta_ – I know what you're saying, but I just want you to remember that I made Xiao and Miharu best friends in this story. They are very close, and Miharu feels hurt that Xiao is keeping something hidden from her, that's all. She's not trying to intrude in on her personal life. Also, remember that Miharu knows nothing of what's going on between Xiao and Jin, so she doesn't realize the seriousness of what she's asking. 

****

5.0 – Running Away  


"Xiao… Xiao, wake up."

Xiao groaned in response, turning over on the mattress of her bed and burying her face into one of her pillows. 

"C'mon, Xiao."

Again, the same response, only this time she reached behind her, grabbed her other pillow, and pulled it over her head.

A large hand grasped her forearm and shook her firmly. 

"Ugh, 'o away!" Xiao growled from underneath her pillow, angry at whoever it was that was trying to disturb her sleep.

"Xiao." Partially awake now, Xiao groggily recognized the voice to be none other than Jin's.

"Wha' 'oo you 'ant?" she demanded, hugging the pillows closer, refusing to fully wake up.

She felt Jin tug on her pillow and she held on to it harder. "C'mon, we're leaving."

Xiao loosened her grip on the pillows, taken aback. "Huh?"

"We're leaving," Jin repeated patiently. When he tugged on the pillows this time, she didn't fight him. 

Xiao blinked her eyes, willing them to open. It was still dark inside her room, moon and star light filtering in through the blinds at her bedroom windows. Xiao glanced over at her digital alarm clock. 2:03 a.m., it read. 

"What, now? It's so early. Where are we going?" she asked.

Jin didn't answer her. He crossed the room to her closet, opening it. He glanced around it for a moment, looking for something. Pulling out a small duffel bag, he tossed in on the floor and turned back to her. "Start packing," he said.

Xiao's head spun. "Why?"

"I told you, we're leaving."

She sat up in her bed, gazing at Jin quizzically. "I'm not going anywhere," she said defiantly. 

"You don't have a choice," Jin said. He went back to her closet and began pulling out random articles or clothing, throwing them over the top of the duffel bag.

"Jin, what's going on?"

"He knows I'm here."

Xiao blinked. "He… What? Who?"

"Pack now, questions later."

"I'm not doing anything until you tell me what's going on."

Jin stopped. Sighing heavily, he said, "Kazuya. He knows I'm here." And then, "Kazuya…he's alive," more as an afterthought to himself. 

"Your father?" Xiao's head ached with this newfound information. Kazuya? How could that be? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? Oh, dear Lord, had he staged his death too?

Jin must've read her mind. "I thought I killed him during the last tournament."

His tone of disappointment didn't go unnoticed. "Wait… I'm still confused. Kazuya's the one who's been after you?"

"No—well, yes. But I thought I'd stopped him from doing that years ago."

Xiao slid to the edge of the bed, dangling her legs over the mattress. The carpet was cool under her toes. "What's that supposed to mean? There're more after you than just him?"

"Xiao, now really isn't the time. I'll answer questions later. Please, just start packing."

She stood from the bed, consciously pulling on her pajama shorts to cover her bare legs. "Why do I have to go? Wouldn't I just be in the way? Can't you just leave?"

Jin shook his head. "No. He'll come after you, too."

She frowned. "I thought you said I wasn't in any danger."

"I thought you weren't—that is until he was added into the equation."

Xiao walked over to the wall behind her dresser, reaching for the light switch. Jin stopped her, however, before she could turn it on.

"Don't turn on the lights!" he said in a loud whisper. 

"Why not?"

He walked over to one of the windows, spread wide open two of the blinds and peered out. "I don't know whether he's still out there or not."

"He's _here_?" Xiao gasped in surprise, eyes widening. 

"He was," Jin replied. "He left down the street just a few minutes ago. Now, come on. No more talking, start packing." 

Xiao didn't need to be told twice. She rushed over to her duffel bag and picked up the clothes scattered over it, choosing carefully and placing them inside.

"Pack only what's necessary," Jin told her. "We travel light."

She heard his footsteps exiting the room. Taking his words into consideration, she dumped the clothes she'd packed onto the floor and brought the bag over to her dresser. Pulling open all of the drawers, she picked out undergarments, socks, T-shirts and jeans. Since they were clearly on the run, Xiao highly doubted that it'd matter whether or not she made a fashion statement. She ran back to her closet and pulled down a few sweaters and sweatshirts—just in case.

Grabbing her purse on her way out of the bedroom, she then ran into the bathroom and grabbed all her toiletries—save for razors, shaving cream and the lot, although she did grab Jin's new purchases and stuffed them in with hers. Kazuya and whoever else was chasing Jin could screw themselves; after what she went through at the grocery store, she'd be damned if those went to waste. 

When she came out into the living room, Jin was carrying out his own duffel bag, undoubtedly the same one he'd arrived with yesterday, and a couple sleeping bags and pillows tucked under his arm. 

"Ready?" he asked.

Xiao nodded.

"All right, let's go." 

Xiao scampered over to the closet and grabbed her jacket as Jin opened the door. He nodded approvingly at her light luggage, holding the door open for her as she stepped out, and then walked out himself, locking and closing the door behind him. 

"What do we do now?" she asked, following closely behind Jin as he lead the way down the hallway, though she barely heard the words to her question over the loud, intense beating of her own heart. 

"Do you have a car?" he asked.

"No. I always take the train," she said.

"Shit."

They went the rest of the way in silence. It wasn't until they reached the outside world, where the night air was dark and chilly, and street lamps littered the blackened streets with their yellowish glow. Clouds had begun to gather in the sky, a sprinkling of rain drizzling down on the pavement. 

"Over here," Jin said, directing her towards the parking lot.

Xiao had a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Wait, Jin—you're not planning to do—what I think you're planning to… Are you?"

"Yup," Jin said bluntly. He was scanning the small selection of cars parked in the lots.

"Can't we take a taxi or a train or something?" 

Jin shook his head. "Nope."

He checked every car door—save for ones on newer looking cars that he thought might have car alarms on them—listening for an affirmative click that would ensure passage. On his forth try, the door gave way, and she heard Jin give a sigh of relief. 

Xiao's insides were knotting with anxiety. They couldn't do this. There was just no way they could get away with it. "Jin," she said as she watched him slide leisurely into the driver's seat, tossing his items into the back seat, "are you sure you know what you're doing? We don't have keys for this car."

"It's called hotwiring," Jin said simply. He patted the empty passenger seat beside him. "Now get in," he ordered. 

Xiao didn't understand how Jin could act so calm and in control of this matter. She felt her hands shaking from nervousness at her sides, her palms claming up with cold sweat. Her head turned from side to side, checking the nearby alleys for Kazuya or anyone else who might be after them. 

"Xiao," Jin called to her. "Let's go."

Xiao hesitantly obliged, walking around to the other side and opening the car door. She slid into her seat and threw her things in back with Jin's as he fiddled with something under the steering wheel. He'd pulled the plastic shielding the ignition cables off, and was now picking at the wires inside. She watched with mild fascination as sparks flew from the bare wires, a slight hissing noise emitting from them. A couple of minutes later, the engine roared to life.

Xiao gaped at Jin in stunned disbelief as he sat back up in his seat. "You've done this before," she said, more as an accusation than a statement. 

Jin shrugged, saying nothing, and threw the car into reverse. They backed out of the lot. Jin switched it into drive, then pulled around to the curb. 

"Buckle your seat belt," Jin said.

Xiao frowned, ready to argue with why she had to buckle hers when his wasn't, when he suddenly sped out onto the street, the quickness of the movement causing her fling backward in her seat, her head colliding into the side of the doorframe. 

"Ow!" she moaned, rubbing the side her head with her hand. "_Fuck_. Do you _have_ to drive like a bat out of hell?"

"The quicker we're out of here, the better," Jin said, his eyes trained on the road ahead of him. Electric lights and signs streamed past their vehicle in a whir of color. 

"And _where_ exactly are we going, might I ask?" Xiao huffed. 

Jin took a quick glance her way. His facial expression was serious, but she could've sworn she caught a strange gleam in his eyes. "Who knows?" he said. "Probably wherever the wind takes us."

* * * * *

Heihachi sat at his desk in his office at the Mishima Financial Empire Corporate building. Outside his door, he could hear the sound of footsteps falling against carpet and tiled flooring, printers eating paper, fingers clicking away against keyboards—always at work. He'd been here all night, doing a bit of research himself since his men proved to be nothing but _useless_ to him. 

And, even though he hated to admit it, he wasn't coming up with anything either. Jin's whereabouts were truly nowhere to be found. It both surprised and enraged him that his grandson would be capable of hiding from him, the great and feared Heihachi Mishima. He should've caught Jin ages ago, but somehow he _always_ managed to escape from his grasp. Just when Heihachi thought he had him, Jin would pull some crazy stunt and flee into the night, and it'd be days—months—before Heihachi could pinpoint his location once again. 

And for some reason this time he couldn't. He hadn't been able to find Jin since his supposed death, which was two years ago. No hotels, no hospitals, no airports or train stations—nothing. How the devil _did_ that boy get around? 

He knew the answer to that question. But, damn it, _why_? Why Jin and Kazuya? Why couldn't it have been him? Why did his kin get to play the roles of super heroes, and he had to chase after on foot?

"Mr. Mishima, sir," a soft, feminine voice spoke from his door. He lifted his head to see his secretary, Hana. "You have a telephone call."

Heihachi frowned, glancing over at the clock hanging on his wall. 2:30 a.m. Who would be calling him at a time like this? "I thought I told you to hold all my calls," he said.

Hana bowed respectively, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "Yes, sir, you did, but the man said it was urgent that he spoke to you."

He quirked a brow in interest. "Who, Hana?" 

"Your son, sir, Kazuya Mishima."

Heihachi managed to keep his surprise at bay. "My…son?" he asked, making certain he'd heard her clearly.

"Yes, sir."

Heihachi nodded. "Very well," he said. "Put him through."

Hana left. Seconds later, a light flashed on his phone set. He pressed the button for line one, picked up the receiver, and said, "Hello?"

For a moment, there was no sound on the other end, but then Heihachi heard a deep, throaty chuckle that sounded all too familiar, and then his son's voice, "Working a little late tonight, eh, Father?"

* * * * *

They'd cleared the city hours ago. Jin wanted to make sure, though, that they were a good, far distance away before stopping to pull over for the rest of the night. It was already nearing five o' clock in the morning. A faint glow from the sun was beginning to kiss the tops of the trees, dawn rising upon them. Xiao was asleep beside him, her head inclined back on the passenger seat, her face peaceful. Cool air seeped in through the cracked window at her side, ruffling her sleek, black hair. 

She shifted at his side, a soft murmur escaping from her lips, and she slumped sideways, falling into his arm. Jin smiled. Maybe they'd been driving long enough, he thought. 

He spotted a clearing in the forest beside the dirt road they'd been traveling on and steered towards it. There was no way he could just pull over on the side of the road; they'd be all too easily spotted by anyone who drove by. He had to hide themselves in the safety of the woods. 

It wasn't easy, but Jin managed to snake through wide spread trees until they were far enough inside the forest that they wouldn't be seen. He put the car in break and turned to Xiao, gently lifting her off his arm.

"Xiao," he said softly. 

She snorted; her eyes fluttering open the slightest bit. "Mmm…?"

"Xiao, come on, we're stopping to rest for a few hours."

With what looked to be a great amount of effort, on her part, Xiao pushed herself up in her seat. She gazed wearily about, checking her surroundings. "Where are we?" she asked groggily, her voice soft as a whisper.

"I'm not quite sure," Jin answered honestly. He pushed his car door open, stepping out. He walked around to the back doors, opened them, and took out the sleeping bags and pillows. 

"We're in the woods…" 

"We can't stay out in the open," he told her. "This will be good for one night."

"But it's still dark," she sounded almost fearful.

For the most part, she was correct. The trees did well to block out the little light that was surfacing above the horizon. "It's almost dawn," he assured her. 

Jin took up the sleeping bags and pillow, and, after finding a soft patch of grass near their parked car, laid them out on the ground. "Here," he said, gesturing to his finished work. "I'm going to go find some wood to build a fire."

Xiao nodded, rubbing her hands against her forearms. She stepped out of the car and walked over to one of the sleeping bags. "Don't go out too far," she said, and Jin wondered if it was out of concern or her own fear. 

Whichever it was, Jin didn't respond. He set out through the woods, and began picking up stray pieces of book and fallen bark. 

Kazuya was back.

The thought rang through his mind like a sounding bell, loud and clear, and stung deep. His father, Kazuya Mishima, was back. 

But how? Jin had held his father's body in his arms, feeling the life pulsating out of him, his breath becoming shallower and shallower until his inhaled his very last. There was no way Kazuya could still be alive.

__

Why not? A small voice inside his head asked. _You survived a fatal gunshot from your grandfather, why shouldn't Kazuya be able to survive your own hands?_

Because I fought with everything I had, Jin argued defiantly. He'd given his all. He'd put his body, mind and soul into finishing off his father. There was no way Kazuya should have been able to survive a feat like that. 

That was no excuse. Jin was denying himself of the obvious. Kazuya had survived the same reason he'd survived his grandfather: the Devil gene. As long as they both had it coursing through their veins, they would both be as good as invincible to physical harm. 

A twig snapping behind his jarred him out of his thoughts. Turning, he found Xiao emerging from a blanket of leaves a few yards from where his stood. She had her sleeping bag wrapped around her, its plus stuffing engulfing her, making her appear smaller than she really was. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He hadn't meant for his tone to sound so unwelcoming, but, given the current circumstances of his thoughts, he really couldn't help it. 

"I-I thought you might need some help," she said. "You've been out here for a while."

Looking up through the canvass of branches of leaves, Jin saw that she was right. The sun was already becoming visible, its golden rays stretching over the gray skies. He'd been lost in his thoughts for quite some time. 

"You should be back there," he said. "I'll be along in a few minutes."

"All right."

Jin worked quickly now, pushing all thoughts aside and concentrating on the task at hand. He gathered a good number of twigs and brush, and he was fortunate enough to find a few short, thin logs that would serve well for their fire. 

Once satisfied with his findings, he headed back to where they'd made camp. Xiao was sitting on her sleeping back, staring anxiously around her into the dark trees, the light of the sun having not yet penetrated through the woods. 

When she spotted Jin, she jumped up, running to his side. "Let me help you with those," she said.

Jin decided that it was fear that drove her to act like this, as, given their current relationship and situation, the last he expected for her to be was nice to him. 

Working together, they had a fire going in no time. Xiao scrambled back over to her sleeping bag, unzipping it and crawling inside. Jin grabbed his, rolling it out a few feet away from hers. He sat on top of it, but did not bother to make himself comfortable. 

"Aren't you going to get some sleep?" Xiao asked over a long yawn.

Jin shook his head. "I don't need it. You get some rest. We have a long trip ahead of us later on."

She grabbed the hem of her sleeping bag, pulling it up to her chest. "What are you going to do?"

"Stay up. Keep watch. We still need to be on the lookout here," he said. 

Xiao's eyes flashed from side to side. "Um—okay," she said, uneasy, but slid into her sleeping bag anyway.

A half an hour passed and Xiao still hadn't fallen asleep yet. He watched as she tossed and turned in her sleeping bag, tugging on the covers, adjusting her pillow, sometimes kicking off the covers entirely—that is, until the mosquitoes came after her, and she covered herself once again. 

The fire crackled softly, sending orange embers of light spilling over Xiao's form. He could see her hair was damp, slick with sweat and sticking to her skin. He had a long view of her, and as a result she hadn't noticed him watching her yet, and he caught her surveying the area around her with wide eyes. 

"Xiao, you all right?" he called over to her. 

She stiffened. "N—I mean, y-yes, I'm fine."

Jin sighed, shaking his head. Even if she were shaking in terror, she'd never admit it to him. He'd never known Xiao to be much of a wilderness girl, but he was pretty certain that she wasn't frightened of the woods. She was worried about this whole mess he'd dropped on her—which was completely understandable. She was lost, confused, with no choice but to follow him blindly. 

Jin's heart reached out to her. He hated putting her through this. It was his own damned fault. He never should have come back to her. Because of him, now she was probably in more danger than she would've been if he'd just left her alone. 

He couldn't blame it on that he had nowhere else to go. Though that was a part of it, all these years he'd never had anywhere to go, and he'd managed just fine—but it was more than that. He'd wanted to see her again. Selfish and dishonorable as it was, that was the truth. 

Standing, Jin picked up his sleeping bag and pillow and walked over to Xiao's side. He noticed her slightly trembling as he set his sleeping bag down beside hers. 

"W-What are you doing?" she asked, turning over. Her small face peered up at him, her face golden in the firelight, her eyes almost the deep, earthy color of soil, reminding him of home. 

He didn't answer. Instead, he lounged out on the sleeping bag beside her, his body close to hers. Ignoring the look of surprise and questioning on her face, Jin wrapped a long arm around her and pulled her close.

"Jin—"

"Shh," he said, hugging her close. He pressed her head down against his chest, willing her to rest against him. "Get some rest."

And, almost instantly, he felt her body relax against his. Moments later, he felt the change in her breathing, slow, steady, smooth; she was sound asleep. 

A Note from Tina: Just so you all know, I've never hot-wired a car before, so I have no clue how's it actually done.


	7. Chasing Shadows

****

SURRENDER by Tina 

A Note from Tina: All right, here's the sixth chapter, a little slower than my previous updates, though. I had a bit of writer's block about halfway through this chapter. Once I got started again, however, I just sort of zoomed through it, and as a result I fear it'll seem a little too rushed and not as well written. Oh, well. I'll let you dears be the judges of that. By the way, I want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews. They've truly encouraged me to continue writing, and it really pleases me that you enjoy my work. 

****

6.0 **– Chasing Shadows**

"What are you still doing alive?" Kazuya heard Heihachi's gravelly voice inquire through the phone's receiver.   
  
"Oh, Dad, you know the answer to that question," Kazuya replied, grinning. He'd caught his father off guard. He could hear the confusion and worry evident in his voice. _Good._

"But—Jin—I saw him _kill_ you."

"You shouldn't always rely on your senses," Kazuya said. "What you see and hear may not always be what really is." 

"Fair enough. You've survived worse from me," he said with a sort of self-satisfactory smugness. 

"Yes, but remember it for what it was, Dad, _a failure_." He'd be damned if he let his father forget that.

He didn't hear it, but he could feel Heihachi's anger boiling on the other end. "So…" he said, "you're alive. That's…wonderful news—" this bit, of course, was said with bitter irony "—Now, what exactly is it that you want?"

"The same thing you want," Kazuya said, unfazed by neither his father's tone nor choice of words, "my other half to the Devil gene."

Kazuya heard a deep intake over the receiver and guessed that Heihachi was inhaling from his pipe. "You and I are enemies in this game, Kazuya, or have you forgotten? The reason I had the forth tournament was to lure you and Jin out so that I could take one or the other down."

Kazuya sighed into the phone. "Yes, and how successful was that plan, hmm?"

Heihachi said nothing.

"You should've known, old man. You should've known that you couldn't—_can't_—take either of us down alone."

"What are you saying?" Heihachi snarled, clearly not liking where this conversation was going.

"You've tried killing us numerous times—all attempts failed, of course. Haven't you learned anything from those?"

Heihachi grunted in response.

Kazuya grinned. "Apparently not, as, I see, you're still going about the same tactics."

"Get to the point, Kazuya. I don't have time for this."

"Why is it, do you think, that you've never been successful in taking either of us down?"

There was silence on the other, save for the faint whisper of smoke being inhaled from Heihachi's pipe.

"Because you've had both of _us_ working _against_ you," Kazuya answered his own question. "Think about it, Dad, the two of us combined—we create the Devil. Now, how can a silly mortal stand against the Devil, hmm?"

He felt Heihachi registering all this information. 

"He can't," Kazuya continued. His smile broadened; now was the part where he'd flip Heihachi's top. "But what if the stakes were changed?"

"What do you mean?" There was a hint of hope in his voice.

"Think about it."

"Are you—" he sounded almost fearful to say it, "—are you saying that—you'll help me…?"

Kazuya shrugged, well aware that Heihachi wouldn't be able to see it. "Mm, more like I'm requesting you help me."

"What's the difference?"

"The difference is, old man, that we both want Jin for two different reasons. However, I believe the product can be shared." Kazuya realized how sick this proposition sounded, but didn't really care. "I want my other half, and you want enough DNA to complete your bio-genetic experiments."

"But—if you want—"

"Let me finish." Kazuya paused for effect. "I give you enough for one experiment, enough so that you can produce more in your labs, and I get the rest for myself."

He could tell Heihachi didn't like the sound of Kazuya getting more. Though this proposition fit both their needs, he knew Heihachi still wanted to reign supreme over him, and, by letting him receive the majority, he was automatically letting Kazuya have the upper hand. 

"One question," Heihachi said, "why are you doing this?"

Kazuya hesitated to reply. "For the same reason you need me: I can't take on Jin by myself."

Heihachi contemplated this for a while. After a few moments, he sighed, clearly having come to his decision. "Fine," he said. "You've got yourself a deal."

* * * * * 

When Xiao woke later that same morning, she found that her buttocks was numb with cold (from having spent a few hours out in the early morning air with no covering from her sleeping bag). The rest of her was, however, nice and toasty warm beneath the thick, plush blanketing—so warm, in fact, that she could feel a heated flush burning up her neck and cheeks. 

Xiao made to push the bedding down some, to give herself some air, but came to the startling conclusion that she couldn't, as something heavy was weighing her arms down. 

Blinking her eyes open, she scanned down towards her midriff, where the…_thing_…weighing upon her lay. A long, jacket-covered arm was curling leisurely around her waist, loosely holding on to her through the sleeping bag. Xiao nearly panicked, until her eyes darted beside her and she recognized the design of Jin's jacket. Sighing her relief, she flopped her head back down against her pillow—

Only it wasn't her pillow. It was Jin's chest. She gasped, bolting upright in her sleeping bag and whirling around to look down at him. Jin lay sound asleep across her pillow, his body at an angle where, clearly, it'd been made for her to comfortably rest against him. His hood was pulled up over his head, though she no trouble seeing his face in the morning light, even with his dark hair falling haphazardly across his handsome brow. 

She remembered now—last night. How he'd lain beside her to comfort her while she'd slept. 

A small smile spread across her lips, despite herself. He looked so peaceful sleeping, almost like an innocent child. She hated to wake him, but, from the looks of it, it was well into the morning—the sun was filtering in through the forest, tree leaves bright and vibrantly green with the intensity at which it shone. And, remembering their current situation, she doubted Jin would want to stay here.

"Jin," she whispered quietly. The smile never left her face as she shook him gently, tapping the tanned skin of his smooth cheek with her fingertips. "Jin, wake up."

Jin moaned deeply, a frown crossing his features. Xiao felt a pang of guilt, but, regardless, she had to press on.

"Jin," she tried again. "Jin…"

Jin's eyes opened, a deep, deep brown color—almost black. His brows knitted as his frown deepened and he glanced around at his surroundings. He apparently, too, was surprised to find himself in this intimate position with Xiao, with his arm still casually draped across her middle. 

"Xiao?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He grunted as he adjusted his position, sliding his arm away from her. Xiao felt a sense of loss. "What time is it?"

Xiao glanced down at her wristwatch. "Almost eight thirty," she said.

"Shit," Jin cursed. "How long have you been up?"

Xiao was quick to reply, "I woke up just a few seconds before I got you up." 

Jin grunted again, this time with the effort of standing up. "Shit," he said again, once planted firmly on his two feet. He glanced around the area, as though searching for something. 

"What's wrong?" Xiao asked, confusion and worry suddenly welling up inside of her.

His eyes fell on her. She watched him study her, a blank expression written on his face. She wished he'd tell her what was wrong. 

"Nothing," he said. He bent over, picked up his sleeping bag, and began rolling it up. "Come on. We've got to get going."

Xiao obeyed without argument. She rolled up her sleeping back, took both hers, Jin's and the pillows they'd used last night and threw them into the back of the car, while Jin stomped on the embers that still glowed in the black ashes that were the remnants of their fire, and then covered the evidence with fallen leaves and shrubbery. 

And then they left.

* * * * *

Miharu walked about the campus grounds of the Tama Art University in Tokyo. She'd been searching _everywhere_ for Xiao this morning. Not only did they have classes together, but she also wanted to find her so she could apologize for her behavior at the grocery store on the previous night. 

It'd taken her several hours to come to this conclusion, but she'd rationalized that she'd been—well, _ir_rational. Xiao was, after all, her best friend, and she should respect her privacy if she _truly_ felt she needed to keep it. 

However, she hadn't been able to share this revelation as of yet. Ducking through hallways of one of the school buildings, milling her way through the sea of people rushing to classes, Miharu searched for a certain head of black hair that might just belong to Xiao.

"Xiao!" she called out randomly, rising on her tiptoes and scanning the area.

No sign of her. 

Maybe she wasn't here today, she thought. Turning on her heel, Miharu headed to the main office to see if Xiao had checked in at all today. As unlikely as it was, Xiao might be sick—though she rarely ever was. 

There was a line of students already at the front desk. Miharu checked her watch impatiently; she was already late for her first class. 

When it was finally her turn, she approached a stoutly woman clicking away at a computer behind the desk. "Excuse me," she said politely, dragging the woman's attention away from the computer monitor. "Um, I was wondering if you could possibly tell me whether Ling Xiaoyu has signed in at all today?"

The woman blinked up at her through a pair of rectangular spectacles. "Just a moment please… What was the name again?"

"Ling Xiaoyu."

"Mm, nope. I'm afraid she hasn't. We've already received the attendance and she's been marked as absent." 

Miharu blinked, surprised. So she _wasn't _here. Very strange, Xiao hardly missed a day of classes. 

"All right, thank you," Miharu said, bowing slightly and then turning to leave.

She'd seemed fine yesterday, she couldn't help thinking, aside from her obvious discomfort at being drilled by Miharu. Other than that, though, she hadn't seen any signs of illness.

What could have happened to her?

* * * * *

"Sir, your son is here to see you."

"Send him in."

The metallic doors swooshed open and Kazuya stepped in. He looked exactly the same as he had during the forth tournament, the only difference was that he'd lost the conservative suits and instead donned a casual pair of faded jeans, black T-shirt and a deep brown leather jacket. 

"Kazuya," Heihachi said, his tone of voice anything but welcoming. "You're late."

An arrogant smirk played across his son's face. "Sorry, Daddy-O, there was a lot of traffic down town."

Heihachi ignored his statement and gestured to one the chairs situated in front of his desk. "Sit," he said. "Let's get started."

Kazuya lingered by the door. "Whoa, whoa. Is this the kind of greeting I deserve? I mean, it's been, what, four years since you've last tried to kill off your dear son?"

  
"Where is he, Kazuya?" Heihachi asked, plowing right through his bullshit. "You said you saw him last night. Where was he?"

Kazuya's expression hardened. He walked over and took a seat in one of the chairs. "He was on top of an old apartment building in the west part of the city. I couldn't see what one it was because it was so dark."

"Would you be able to track your way back there if needed?"

Kazuya shook his head. "No point. He won't be there. He'd fled."

Heihachi glared. "How do you know?"

"He saw me too. Trust me, he won't be there."

"Do you have any idea where he might've gone?"

Kazuya was silent. Heihachi watched as his son's face screwed up in thought. It was easier, he imagined, to figure out Jin's whereabouts when you had someone in the same seat as him. Kazuya, too, had spent years hiding from him. 

"No," Kazuya said finally.

Heihachi growled. "Why _not_?"

"What do I look like, a frickin' mind reader? I know my son as well as you do. The only thing I can guess is he's headed for the hills."

Heihachi clenched his pen hard on the surface of his desk, squeezing it 'til the point where it threatened to burst. "There are plenty of 'hills' around here, Kazuya. You have to be more specific."

"Small populated towns. He'll want to go to places where he'll attract as little attention as possible, places that aren't directly connected to the city."

Heihachi nodded. "What do you recommend we do?"

"Bring out some maps. Get your best men up here and we'll send them in different locations."

Heihachi pressed a button on his telephone, paging his secretary. "Hana, get me the Tekkenshu. Pronto."

* * * * *

Jin couldn't believe he'd allowed this to happen. It had to be _her_—she was his weakness. It'd taken him a damn long time to realize just how strong of a weakness she was, though—in fact, it hadn't even been until this morning, the time of which his source of distress had taken place, when he'd discovered that he'd over slept with her in his arms. 

He gripped the steering wheel tighter in his hands, his eyes glaring straight ahead at the seemingly endless miles of marked pavement and trees. Beside him, he could feel Xiao's timid eyes watching him curiously from the passenger seat. Silence filled the air between them, the only sounds being the gentle murmur of the engine and the wind blowing against the windshield of the car.

That is, until he heard a strange growling noise beside him. 

Jin turned to look at Xiao, who now shared his gaze with wide, embarrassed eyes. At first she said nothing, and he quirked a corner of his mouth up in a semi-lopsided smile. "Hungry?" he asked.

Xiao nodded her head slowly, almost shamefully, but said nothing. 

Jin glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 12:47 p.m. Goodness, no wonder. They hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. 

"All right, we'll stop to get something to eat then."

They took the next exit to the smallest town Jin could find, despite Xiao's many protests that they stop at one of the larger ones, claiming that—from the food sings posted on the highway—they'd have a better chance at finding something good to eat. 

Jin got off the exit and pulled into the parking lot of a small diner. He knew it'd be safer just to stop at a deli or a gas station and pick something cheap up there, but Jin was having a guilty conscious and felt the need to make up for all the shit he'd put her through by taking her to a nice breakfast. 

A small waitress with a hard-not-to-notice large ass and short, curly hair took them to a small booth at the back of the restaurant—upon Jin's request, of course—in the corner, where they'd be hidden by other customers from the windows. 

"What are you going to order?" Xiao asked, already in greater spirits as the waitress handed them their menus. 

Jin shrugged, burying his face in the contents of his menu. Xiao ordered drinks, two cups of tea, one plain and one loaded with sugar and cream. 

And while Xiao scanned the menu, mumbling the choices softly to herself, Jin took the opportunity to look around. From the looks of things, it appeared they were all right. There weren't very many people in here, and most seemed too immersed in their own business—either gossiping with a friendly neighbor, watching the weather report on television, or reading the news paper. Every now and then he'd catch a curious local peering over their shoulders to take a gander at the newcomers, sometimes turning to a buddy and whispering something to them.

Jin felt a little more on edge than what was normal, since, of course, now that he wasn't traveling solo any longer, it'd be more difficult trying to keep a low profile. He had no doubt either, the spectacle the two of them made together either: a dark, hooded man sitting with a young, pretty girl. He'd admit that it must look a little odd, at least on her part. 

"Xiao," he whispered softly to her across the table. Xiao looked up from her menu. "Don't order too much. We've gotta eat quick and be back on the road."

Xiao looked at him for a moment, though he saw the understanding in her eyes. She nodded.

The waitress came back and she took their order. When she left, Jin drank greedily from his cup, savoring the sweet, warm liquid that trickled down his throat, easing the tension he felt in his muscles. 

Neither said a word to the other while they waited for their food. It was an uncomfortable situation, he imagined, especially to Xiao. She'd never been in a position like this before and she wasn't sure how to go about it. As far as he was concerned, she was doing very well, though he wished she'd talk to him, make it look like they were there enjoying themselves rather than hiding from dangerous pursuers.

Jin slid a hand across the table, taking hold of one of hers, feeling it tremble beneath his touch. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles, giving a little squeeze of reassurance to the back of her palm. Xiao's eyes met his, and she gave him a weak smile. 

Since business was apparently running slowly, their food came in short time. Jin eat his food at a steady pace, not too quickly so that the food wouldn't settle in his stomach, but not so that he dawdled, either. Xiao, on the other hand, was shoveling hers down as fast as she could manage.

"Whoa," he said, placing a hand over hers to stop her from scooping another spoon full into her mouth. "Take it easy."

Xiao blushed, her mouth too stuffed with food to comment. 

Jin finished before she did. When his plate was cleared, he pushed it aside. 

"I'm going to go the bathroom quick," he told her.

Xiao nodded over her cup of tea.

As Jin stood from the booth, the front doors opened, and two men came walking in. They were dressed in dark business suits and carrying similar brief cases—lawyers, by the looks of them—clearly not from around these parts, either. Taking precautions, Jin ducked his head and pulled his hood farther over his face. The two men walked past him without so much as giving him a glance, though it was hard to tell since their eyes were covered with sunglasses. 

Jin turned to watch them go as he headed to the men's room. No wires, no devices sticking out of their pockets, no weaponry of any kind that he could see. These men appeared to be safe.

With a sigh of relief, he finished his venture to the bathroom. 

After using the toilet and washing his hands, Jin headed back into the diner. However, as he was closing the door to the bathroom behind him, he heard a loud scream erupt throughout the little diner. Looking towards their booth, Jin found Xiao standing with the two men he'd seen enter just moments before. They were both on her, grabbing her from either side, and she was struggling to get free, screaming and wriggling within their grasp. 

Small and agile, a trait the two large, lumbering men holding her lacked, she was able to slip free from one of them. She delivered a roundhouse kick to one, knocking him hard from his feet, and went to attack the other, twisting her body in his arms and using him as momentum to jump up and kick him with both feet in the chest. The other man released her immediately, crying out in pain from her powerful assault and falling down beside the other. 

Xiao made to escape, turning quickly and bolting down the rows of booths. However, the first man recovered quickly, leaping to his feet and chasing after her. 

Jin acted quickly. With a speed he could only achieve with the Devil genes that coursed through his blood, he charged at the two, skimming past Xiao and, before the other man could even react, lunged at him with a bone shattering twin thrust to the chest and middle. Sure enough, Jin heard the satisfying crunch of a rib—or several—being broken. 

The man screeched, falling back, clutching at his injured torso. Jin shook both fists, pain swelling through his knuckles at the intensity of his attack, but he ignored it. 

The other man came up from behind. Being more prepared than the first, he flew at Jin, delivering a series of quick punches and kicks at him. Jin gave the man credit for moving as quickly as he did—figuring his size—but he wasn't quick enough. Jin was able to sufficiently dodge and kick them all with little effort. 

It wasn't long before Jin tired of this, and he ducked, taking the man by surprise during a mid-blow punch that had been aimed for Jin's middle, instead hitting nothing but air. Using this to his advantage, Jin performed what he called a Rising Lancer, followed by a hard Backfist that sent the man spiraling through the air before he landed with a painful smack against the tiled floor, but not before the man gashed his head on the sharp edge of a table. 

With both men temporarily down, Jin turned to look for Xiao, finding her standing a few feet behind him, hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide and fearful looking. Jin turned back to the two men.

"Who are you!?" he demanded. 

Both men had lost their sunglasses somewhere during the scuffle. They stared at him blankly. The first man stayed closer to the back, eyeing Jin cautiously, still protecting his wound with his hands, occasionally letting out a grunt of pain. The second looked up at him with only one eye, the other shut tight so as to keep the blood from spilling into it. 

"I said who are you!?" Jin repeated, seething with anger. "Who sent you!?"

"You know very well who sent us, Kazama," the one sprawled on the floor finally answered in a hiss as he attempted to wipe the flowing blood from his brow. 

And then he saw it. In a gap between the man on the floor's jacket and his shirt he saw the Tekkenshu emblem, the Japanese symbol for their organization sewn in black against a red, six-sided diamond shaped background.

The same man who'd been talking smirked. "And we're not leaving until we've finished the job," he said, as he reached for his brief case, popping the lid open.

Jin's eyes widened. They were armed. He knew even before he saw the shiny, dark metal glint up at him in the diner's lights. Turning fast, he grabbed on to Xiao's arm and made a dash down the aisles. 

Xiao tripped, not expecting the suddenness of his actions, and fell to the floor. 

Rounds of gunfire sounded throughout the whole diner. Xiao screamed and covered her head while Jin dove on top of her, folding his arms around her head and his own and using his body as a shield to protect her from harm. He chanced a glance upward, peeking over the edge of his jacket to see bullets flying everywhere, ricocheting off stools, counters and metal lamps hanging from the ceiling, blasting holes into the backs of booths, an explosion of wood and cushion covering. 

Even the man whose ribcage was damaged, who'd apparently recovered from his shock, was firing too. He fired one shot directly at Jin, who ducked his head back under his arm just in time, as the bullet whizzed right past his forearm, cutting through the material of his jacket and skimming the flesh there. 

Jin cursed. Customers and staff members were screaming like mad. He heard people falling from their seats, jumping under counters and tables to get under cover. 

Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. 

Jin looked up. Someone had been actually crazy enough to try and stop the shooters from killing everyone in the diner. Now was their chance to escape. Pushing himself up and standing on his feet, he helped a quivering Xiao do the same.

"Run for it," he whispered to her loudly. Xiao nodded her head, her eyes red with unshed, frightened tears. 

They bolted for the exit. However, before they could make it, gunfire erupted once again and they both dove behind the safety of two empty booths, Xiao shrieking a loud, "Jesus _Christ_!" as she did so. Jin reached behind himself and grabbed her wrist, which was shaking so badly now that he found it difficult to hold on to her, and together they crawled the rest of the way to the double glass doors leading outside. 

Once safely outside, Jin stood and scanned the parking lot. They had to find some sort of transportation out of here. There was no way they could take the same car. 

He spotted a man climbing out of the front seat of his truck at the back of the lot. Still maintaining a firm grip on Xiao's wrist, he sprinted over to the man.

"Whoa, whoa, where's the fire, kids?" the man asked, turning a concerned eye to the loud racket coming from the diner. 

"Excuse me, sir, I need to borrow your truck," Jin said with all the calmness and tolerance he could muster. 

"What?" the man said, averting his gaze to Jin and blinking at him in disbelief. 

Jin growled in frustration, releasing his hold on Xiao so that he could grab the man in front of him and shove him out of the way. 

"Hey! What's the big idea!" the man cried, dropping his keys and jacket to the ground.

"I told you, sir, I _need_ to borrow your truck," Jin said, all the while checking out of the corner of his eye for the men who would undoubtedly be coming out of the diner at any moment.

"_What_? This is _my_ truck! You can't—"

But Jin had had it with him. He grabbed the man by his collar, hoisted him up over his shoulder, and brought him down hard on the pavement so that it rendered him unconscious.

He heard Xiao's sharp intake of breath over what she'd just witnessed. 

Jin's heart was hammering so hard he could hear it ringing loud and clear in his ears, the cursed Devil's gene pumping darkly in his blood. He picked up the man's keys, climbed into the front seat, and turned to Xiao. "Get in!"

Xiao shook her head wildly, her face pale.

Guns blasted outside of the diner and Xiao screamed again. The men where now outside.

"GET IN!" Jin shouted once more.

Xiao let out a frightened whimper, running over to the other side of the truck and hopping inside. Jin started the truck and threw it into reverse. The two men were already running across the parking lot, making their way over to them.

He stopped to switch the truck into drive, then slammed on the gas pedal, steering the wheel directly at the two men. They jumped out of the way, throwing their guns aside and rolling across the pavement to escape from harm's way.

The truck's tires peeled off the gravel as Jin and Xiao sped off down the road, making their way for the highway one again.


	8. A New Plan

****

SURRENDER by Tina 

A Note from Tina: All right, here it is, the seventh chapter. 'Tis quite a bit shorter than the previous one, which I redid for those of you who might want to go back and re-read it (just the last scene at the diner). I'm a lot happier with it now. I felt kinda bad that I made Xiao seem like the weak damsel in distress, so I gave her a stronger part in that scene, and I was more detailed about Jin's fight against the Tekkenshu. Hopefully you'll find it more enjoyable too. ^^

****

7.0 – A New Plan

Xiao felt like she was going to throw up. She could feel the disgusting bile burning up in the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down, her eyes watering with the effort. Were they not fleeing for their very lives at the moment, Xiao would've asked Jin to pull over so she could empty her stomach. 

Jin, who was sitting behind the wheel at the driver's seat, didn't seem to notice; though he appeared to be too focused on the road ahead of him to be aware of much anything else. 

Her stomach was churning, twisting itself almost into a painful groan. Images of Jin brutally attacking those men in suits filled her mind's eye, the sounds of cracked bone and spilled blood echoing off the walls of her skull. The startled looks on innocent people's faces as bullets flew everywhere throughout the diner, their terrified screams and the sound of their bodies falling still ringing like the gong of a church's bell. 

She'd never been through anything like that in her life before. Sure, she'd read about it and watched live footage on the news in Tokyo all the time, but experiencing it was something entirely different. Even while fighting in a tournament, the worse she'd seen or gone through were a few scrapes and bruises and maybe even a broken nose.

And Jin's fighting back at the diner… She'd never seen him use such strength before. She hadn't even known he'd possessed it until now. He'd knocked men down quicker than anyone else she'd ever seen in hand-to-hand combat before. Such power and aggressiveness, it was almost like he was being possessed. In fact, for an instant back there she'd allowed herself that he really was, just from the red fiery glow he had in his eyes when he was fighting. 

"Xiao, are you okay?"

She jumped, startled by Jin's smooth, deep voice disturbing the deafening silence that had pervaded the truck's compartment. "I-I'm fine," she lied.

"Are you sure? You look a little pale."

"Yes," she said, averting her eyes from his to gaze out the passenger window. However, as she did so something red on his arm caught her eye.

"Oh, my God—Jin, you're bleeding!" she exclaimed frightfully.

Jin made to shrug his shoulders, as if to say it was nothing, but stopped and winced in pain instead. "It's nothing," he tried to reassure her. "Just a flesh wound. I'll be fine." 

"How did—was it those men? Did they get a shot at you?"

"No. Pretty close, just skimmed me."

"But…there's so much blood. We need to get you some medical treatment."

Jin waved his other hand, dismissing the idea. "No, no. I'll be fine, really." 

"But…" Xiao trailed off. Just as she was beginning to argue, she noticed the blood flow had stopped. She would've been relieved if it weren't for that fact that it had stopped so suddenly, like someone had stuck a cork in the wound to keep it from spilling. 

Jin grunted, moving his arm around once again, this time without wincing in pain. She knew he was aware of what had just happened, though he looked so calm about it, like it was something that occurred naturally, that she didn't know whether to say anything about it or not. 

"We need to get out of here," Jin said, shoving aside the opportunity to ask him about his wound.

"I know," Xiao said automatically. After what'd just taken place, that much was clear. They couldn't stay in the same area. 

"No, but I mean Japan," he said more firmly, chancing a glance at her, his deep brown eyes intense. "We need to get out of Japan."

Xiao's eyes widened. Though she'd been thinking about the possibility ever since they left this morning, the prospect of hearing it spoken out loud made it much more real. "W-what? Japan? But…I—"

"We don't have a choice. They know we're here and they'll scrape the whole country 'til they find us. I can't leave you behind, either, now that they know you're with me. They'll go after you to get to me."

"Who _are_ these men, Jin?" Xiao asked.

Jin's reply was hesitant, and she knew he wasn't going to give her a straight answer. "Men who want me dead."

Xiao sighed, but didn't fight the issue further. She'd learned that it was impossible yesterday. "So where are we going then?" 

"I don't know. I can't go back to Australia."

"Is that where you've been this whole time?"

Jin shrugged. "Off and on. I couldn't stay there for too long, so I'd travel else where for a while, then come back."

"Where did you go?"

"Uh, a few places in Europe, England and Scotland, a few parts in Asia, the west coast of the United States, Brazil."

Xiao blinked. Wow, he certainly got around. "And how did you get to all these places?"

Xiao thought she saw a hint of a smile on his lips. "I flew." 

"Okay, so you've been chased practically everywhere around the world, but you've always come back to Australia… Why?"

There was a brief pause. A sigh. "I don't know. Australia became the closest thing I had to home besides Japan, which I was convinced at the time—and proved correct as of now—that I couldn't return to. I'd go back there to recuperate, gather supplies to set off again, you know?"

"Weren't you ever afraid they'd be there waiting for you when you returned?"

"No. For some reason they never figured that I'd backtrack there, and by the time they figured it out I'd already have fled to another country."

"So that's why you planted your death there. It'd be more plausible because they knew you lived there, and people there knew you—at least from a distance, anyway—and they could confirm your disappearance."

Jin nodded, but said nothing.

"And now…now you've run out of ideas as to where to go?"

Jin shook his head. "No. If I were alone it'd be much easier. But now that I have you with me I need to look out for you too."

Xiao suddenly felt guilty. If she hadn't been with him today, perhaps those men never would have even showed up at the diner. 

"It's my fault, though," he continued, as if sensing her thoughts. "I got you into this mess. I never should've come to your apartment."

"Why did you?" she asked, her voice soft and full with wonder. She'd never really thought about that before. Why _did_ he come back to her after all these years? 

Jin glanced at her again, and she caught a quick flash of something there—longing and fear, perhaps? "Aside from the fact that I could've afford to stay anywhere public…I-I wanted to see you again, Xiao."

Xiao managed not to act surprised, though her heart was fluttering madly and her spirits had risen with a hope she wasn't aware she still possessed. Did that mean that…he cared about her? 

"I wanted to see that you were doing well. I hadn't seen you in years. Even during the fourth tournament, I'd only seen you fight in the ring and"—Jin paused to clear his throat nervously—"on that night on your balcony…" 

Xiao's heart sank. So his concern for her was nothing more than like a brother looking out for his younger sister. That would also explain why he'd pulled away so suddenly that evening on the fire escape. _Stupid, stupid, Xiao,_ she scolded herself._ Why would you think it any differently? That's always how it's been, ever since the beginning. _

"Oh," she said, not bothering to try and hide her disappointment. She, too, cleared her throat. And, as she did so, a thought struck her. "Hey! I know where we can go!"

Her sudden enthusiasm startled Jin. Her turned confused eyes on her. "Where?" he asked.

"My uncle Wang's old estate in China. It's been empty for years now—ever since he passed away. It'd be perfect!"

Jin stopped to consider this. "Where in China is it?"

"Not too far outside of Beijing. It's hidden in the woods. No one would think to look for us there."

Jin nodded his head approvingly. "All right. Let's do this."

* * * * *

"_What do you mean you let them escape_?" Heihachi demanded his two Tekkenshu that had returned from the incident at the diner through clenched teeth. 

"Uh, sir," the one with an ugly gash over his left temple spoke; the blood had dried mostly, a dark red crust caked to his skin, "we didn't _let_ him escape, he just sorta…did."

Heihachi slammed a fist onto his desk, rattling several solid objects and causing sheets of paper to slide off and down to the floor. "You had him right there, right in your very hands, and you let him get away!?"

"The man had unimaginable powers, sir," spoke the second, who was now inspecting his wound under his shirt—purple and blue bruises at the center of his chest, deep red blotches beneath the skin, showing signs of some internal bleeding. "There was no way we could've fought him off with only two men."

"Why do you think I gave you those guns?" Heihachi hissed, spit flying out of his mouth at the intensity of his anger. "They're loaded with a special sedative made to knock out someone with his abilities."

"We didn't, uh, we didn't—get to use them."

"Well, we did, sir," interrupted the first. "But, like he said, the man is powerful—we could barely make a scratch on him—"

"If it wasn't for that little, bitch," growled the second, "we would've been able to take him on."

"What little bitch?" Kazuya asked, who'd been sitting in the back, listening intently to everything spoken. 

"I-I don't know. We didn't get the chance to find out. We didn't want to use the guns on her because we knew they'd kill her, so we tried to beat her down—"

"But then Jin came, taking us completely by surprise, and we—"

"You fools! What did this woman look like?" Heihachi asked. There was a glint of worry in his eyes. The addition of a girl would complicate things more.

"More of a girl, really. Small little thing. It was amazing how fast she could move. She had long, black hair, dark eyes—not Japanese, by the looks of her."

Heihachi paled. Kazuya noticed this. "Heihachi, what is it?" 

"Ling Xiaoyu," he replied simply. 

"Who?" Kazuya asked, frowning. 

"That little Chinese spitfire who came to live with me when she entered the tournament. She and Jin were close."

Kazuya quirked a brow, clearly intrigued. "Jinny boy's got a girlfriend?"

Heihachi glared at him. "Don't you see? She's helping him! If she hadn't—"

"Oh, please, you're not telling me you think a little girl's helping him get away, are you? If anything, she's only complicating matters for Jin. He can get away fine on his own. With her around it slows him down."

Heihachi's expression softened to one of mild curiosity. He hadn't thought about that. It was true, though. He silently praised whatever force had brought him Kazuya to help him get through this. 

A mischievous expression had fallen over Kazuya's face. "Think about this," he said. "We can use her to our advantage."

Heihachi thought for a while. "What, take her hostage and use her as bait to get Jin back?"

Kazuya grinned. "Exactly." He chuckled deeply. "If Jin and the little spitfire are as close as you say they are—and if Jin has even the slightest bit of his mother in him, which I'm sure he does—then he'll definitely come back for her."

* * * * * 

Night fell later that day, and Jin found himself in another forest with Xiao. They'd driven for hours, only stopping when he'd run out of gas had to steal another car, as neither had any money to pay for gas (they'd left their things back at the diner where they were attacked). 

Surprisingly, and thankfully, they hadn't run into anymore Tekkenshu. 

Jin started another fire on a small, clear patch of grass surrounded by tall, lumbering trees. He and Xiao sat on the ground on either side of the fire, no pillows or sleeping bags to give themselves comfort, the fire crackling loudly in the still silence that pervaded the area, the orange glow of the flames flickering off their bodies, warming them. 

"We have no money, no food," Xiao said suddenly, her voice startlingly loud in the forest. Her eyes never left the burning twigs and underbrush that sat curling in the fire. "How are we going to make it to China before we starve?"

Jin's insides twisted. This wasn't as much of a problem for him, as he'd been traveling like this for years, either through hunting for food in the forest or stealing it every chance he got. He didn't have his knife on him anymore, however, so even if he were to search for any wild animals, he wouldn't be able to kill and skin them for eating. And he certainly couldn't use the Devil gene to his aid with Xiao around. 

"We'll make it," he said softly, though his tone didn't sound very confident.

Xiao's eyes lifted from the fire to look at him. "How? All our things are back at that diner. We can't go back and get it now. My money and ID—what good are they to me now?"

Shit. Jin hadn't realized she'd brought her identification with her. If those men found their car, they'd find out who she was. He knew very well they'd use every tactic they could—including putting up missing posters with her face on them, if need be. 

"Relax," he said, putting on a calm face for her benefit. "Everything will be okay."

A tear fell from her eye and slid down her cheek. "How, Jin? How? I'm so scared right now. I don't know what to do. I don't know how we're going to survive. I-I…I just don't—"

Jin didn't hesitate. He crawled around the fire and sat close to her, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders. Her body shook slightly under his hands, overcome with her tears. 

"Xiao…" Jin found he didn't know what to say. He'd never been too good with crying girls, and he certainly hadn't improved with his periods of isolation over the years. "Xiao, we'll make it out of this, I know we will. I'll take care of you, I promise."

Xiao looked up at him then, her eyes red, tears glistening on the ends of her long, dark lashes. She sighed heavily, exhausted. She put a small smile on her face for his sake, showing him that she was truly grateful for his words. And then she leaned in close to him, lifting her arms and wrapping them around his neck in a hug, resting her head against his chest.

Jin, shocked at first at her show of affection, slowly wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her tightly in a warm embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head before nuzzling his face in the soft, sleek hair that rested in the crook of her neck. 

__

I swear to you, Xiao. I will go to the ends of the earth to protect you. 


	9. Oneway Ticket

****

SURRENDER by mentira

****

8.0 – One-way Ticket

Jin rose before the break of day the following morning. He hadn't slept once, as he feared he'd make the same mistake he made the last time. He didn't trust himself with Xiao. She was too…comfortable, he thought was the appropriate word. He'd gotten too cozy with her that night, allowed her effect over him to take hold, causing him to drop his inhibitions, toss worries to the winds and…simply enjoy being wrapped up in her warmth. 

He couldn't afford to let that happen again.

He took care of the fire they'd used last night, taking the same precautions as he had before. He gathered Xiao, still sound asleep, into his arms, forcing himself to ignore the soft murmurs that emitted from her lips, the way her small, soft hands clutched at the hairs at the nape of his neck as he carried her over to the pickup truck and placed her gently into the passenger seat. 

Today they would make an early start, he told himself as he crossed around the front of the pickup and climbed into the driver's seat. There would be no stops, no detours, no nothing—not until they safely made it to China. 

He had no doubt the Tekkenshu were still searching hard for him. And, knowing Heihachi, there'd be no period of rest until they found and captured him, which meant that they had to be constantly on their toes. Jin even hated admitting to the fact that what happened yesterday even did. He'd been careless, not in his right mind. Again, something he blamed on Xiao.

He put the truck in reverse and carefully backed his way between the trees and out on to the main road. He'd have to steal another car, he thought absentmindedly. No doubt the Tekkenshu would be looking for this one. There was a town coming up at the next exit, he wasn't familiar with it, but he didn't plan on staying long enough for anyone to make note of his presence. 

Once that was done, he'd have to think of a plan to get to China. There was no way they could take public transportation—that was simply out of the question. And he certainly couldn't just fly her there himself. He'd have to find another way. 

__

Think, Kazama, think, he urged himself. But no ideas came to him. He'd never been this far east of Tokyo. The terrain was new to him. For now, all he could do was drive. 

* * * * *

Miharu stood outside the door to Xiao's apartment. She'd neither seen nor heard anything from Xiao since Sunday. At first Miharu figured it was because Xiao was sick, but then she knew Xiao would've at least called her to get the work she'd missed for that day. So that led her to think that she was angry at her insistent prying back at the grocery store, but then there'd been no sign of life happening inside of her apartment as far as she could see. 

She was beginning to get worried. What if something had happened to Xiao and she'd just been too stupid to realize it? What if she was so sick she couldn't move from her bed? Or what if she was injured and lying in pain on her bedroom floor? Or if she'd run away or been kidnapped? Or, even worse, dead? 

Miharu shuddered at the last though. _Now, Mi, you're taking this too far_, she told herself, taking deep, calming breaths in an attempt to ease her frazzled nerves as she reached for the door handle. Raising her other hand, she knocked twice, gave a soft call of "Xiao", and then turned the handle, surprised to find that the door was unlocked. 

"Xiao," she called out again as she stepped over the threshold. 

The room was dark inside; all the blinds on the windows were pulled shut. Miharu felt along the wall, searching for the light switch. She found it and flicked it on, spilling light into the room.

Miharu gasped. 

The apartment was a total disaster. In the kitchen, plates, dishes and silverware—everything had been dumped out of their drawer or cabinet and onto the floor. Even the decorative colored glass panes on the cabinets' doors had been smashed. And in the living dining rooms there were cushions strewn across the carpet, furniture turned upside down, picture frames, books and magazines shattered and torn on the floor. 

When she ran down the hall and checked the bedroom and bathroom, she found them both in the same state as the other rooms. Miharu would be a damned fool not to realize what had happened here: someone had broken in. 

Some things confused her, though. There was no hint of any actual "breaking in". The door was unlocked, which could only mean one thing, as she knew Xiao to be very careful about keeping her doors locked, whoever did it had picked the lock. It'd make sense in a large apartment building like this. The robber or whoever it was knew that an actual break in would cause too much noise in these narrow, little hallways. 

What confused her even more than that, however, was that there was no apparent sign of a struggle. Miharu knew Xiao would never have gone without a fight. There were no torn clothes, no stains of blood, no hints that Xiao might've fought for her life before this person…

Cold fear swept through her body. What _did_ this person do to her? 

Running over to Xiao's phone hanging from the kitchen wall, Miharu picked up the receiver and called the city police. 

* * * * *

It wasn't until quarter of eight when Xiao finally roused, with the wind coming in through the car window, tickling strands of hair across face, chilling her skin through the light pair of jeans and T-shirt she was wearing, making her wish she had a nice pair of warm clothes to change into. Though she was technically awake, she snuggled back into her seat's cushions, hoping to catch the last remnants of sleep before they slipped away for good.   


There was something different about the vehicle, however, that distracted her from falling back asleep. It felt different, more…closer to the ground. With her head against the car's interior frame, she could hear the wind pushing around its exterior, the tires rolling along the pavement, could feel it grinding into the tire's grooves. 

Suddenly she was transported somewhere else, to another time, another place—another life. She was sixteen again, an innocent youth only in her junior year of high school, yet to be affected by the rules of the world, not yet broken and scarred by the sharp dagger of heartbreak. 

She was riding on the back of a motorcycle, her bare legs straddling the leather seat, the rumble of the powerful engine reverberating between them. Her arms wrapped tightly around a slender, but muscular waist, her face pressed close to the space set between the shoulder blades of his back, watching with wide, fearful eyes as the world sped past her. And the wind whistled through her hair, making the raven tresses fly about like the beating wings of a black crow soaring through the air. 

And the man steering the motorcycle was none other than Jin. With his back set straight, his hands tightly clasped around the handle bars, his feet braced on either side of the motorcycle's body, he raced across the earth, circling round and round his grandfather's estate, kicking up clumps of grass and spraying handfuls of dirt. With his heart beating furiously, loud and fast like a stampede of wild stallions galloping across the open prairie. 

She'd been scared, terrified even, of the fast, roaring intensity of the motorcycle—secretly relishing every breathtaking minute of it—but it'd been worth it. It had been during one of these moments that she'd first discovered her feelings for Jin. For as she was riding with him, clinging to the back of him like a starfish to the side of a rock, fearful of the incoming tide that might sweep him off to sea, peering at his profile through the mess of ebony hair that whipped about his head as he rode, it was then that she could experience Jin being truly at ease. 

She'd never realized, until then, how beautiful he looked when he let down all his inhibitions, when he cast aside all his fears and worries and decided to live for the moment, forgetting all else and taking pleasure in it. She rarely ever saw that look on him…

Xiao snapped her eyes open, angrily pushing the unwanted memory out of her mind. She sat up in her seat, fighting with the seatbelt as it threatened to strangle her as she did so, but then stopped short when she noticed something. 

Her earlier suspicions had been correct: they were no longer in the truck. They were in what appeared to be a Nissan Sentra XE. She turned to Jin, who was sitting in the driver's seat staring out the windshield with a look of extreme concentration on his face, though she sensed his line concentration lay elsewhere, and not on the road. 

"Jin," she said, "what happened to the—?"

"We had to ditch the truck," he interrupted her before she could even finish her question. "Those men saw us in it back at the diner. We needed to throw them off."

Xiao nodded her head in understanding. "Where'd you get this?"  


"I borrowed it from an old man back at a gas station some exits back," he said, gesturing with his thumb behind him. 

"Where are we?" 

"We passed an exit for Ogaki City not too long ago." 

She nodded again, the sound of civilization awakening the hunger within her stomach. Xiao turned her head to face the window, embarrassed and refusing to meet Jin's eyes. 

"Look in the glove compartment," Jin said. "There's some food there, but it's not much."

Xiao looked at him, confused. Doing as he told her, she pulled open the glove compartment, and food spilled out into her lap. There were pre-packaged pastries, fruits, a loaf of bread and bottles of water. 

"What…?" she gasped, shocked and in awe at what she was seeing. "Where? How—?"

"Picked up a few things while I was at the gas station," Jin replied dully, shrugging his shoulders as if it meant nothing to him.

Xiao blinked. "You didn't…"

"The place was small so they didn't have much selection, but this should be fine, I think."

"Jin—"

"It's either this or we don't eat anything for a long, _long_ time."

Xiao snapped her mouth shut. Picking out an orange and a bottle of water, she put the rest back and sank back into her sit. Silently she began peeling the orange, her eyes focusing on the touch skin, though her mind strayed elsewhere.

Jin's attitude was nothing short of being reckless, in her opinion, much like how he was with that damned motorcycle. He hadn't been allowed to have it, she remembered. Heihachi knew well that Jin would run wild with it, cutting up their lawn and tearing across the city at full-speed. Disregarding all the rules…it was disturbingly…sexy. 

"You left your motorcycle behind, you know," she said—and then bit down on her lip once she realized what she'd said. 

"What?" he said. 

"When you left—after the third tournament—you didn't take your motorcycle with you."  


Jin turned to look at her, frowning. "What's this all of a sudden?" he asked. 

"You used to love that thing," she explained. "You rode it everywhere. It would've been one of the first things I would've expected you to take with you, that's all."

"I hadn't planned on leaving when I did," he said quietly. 

"But the second time you did?" she said, her tone suddenly bitter, her temper rising.

"I didn't have a choice."

__

Stop. Stop now, she told herself. _Please, just one day of no arguing with him. _"I-I just don't understand," she whispered. 

"I'm sorry," was all he said.

Xiao, now with the peel completely removed from her orange, broke off a piece and ate it. "Where are we heading?"

"Not sure," Jin replied. "We have to think of a way to get out of here." 

Xiao took a sip from her water bottle. "Okay. Where are we again?"

"Just outside of Ogaki."

"Ogaki…Ogaki…" For some reason the name sounded familiar to her. Her friends and her had taken a road trip last year out this way to visit one of their relatives who owned a large mansion with an outdoor pool and sauna during summer break. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly realizing something.

"What?" Jin asked.

She explained her situation to him. "There's a city—Himeji City, I believe it was—we had to go through it to get to Jue's grandmother's house, and I remember seeing an old hanger and runway—"

"No way," Jin said automatically. "That's out of the question—"

"No, no, wait! It was a small hanger. Like, uh, for those little private planes, you know? I think it was closed. I bet it just houses old planes that they don't use anymore, you know?"

She could see the gears functioning in Jin's head. "You're sure it's closed?"

"Pretty sure. There was no one around. It looked abandoned, like it hadn't been used in a while."

Jin nodded, she could see a sign of hope rising in his features. "All right. Then that's our ticket out."

* * * * *

"Anything?" Kazuya asked Heihachi's—pretty damned well as good as his, too—men as they entered the office. 

"No, sir," one of the men replied, and Kazuya was more than glad to hear it addressed to him. "Nothing more than what we found in her bags in that truck from the diner."

"Are you sure?" Kazuya asked, his voice descending lower, sounding more threatening. He stepped closer to the smaller man. "Did you check the _whole_ apartment?"

The man stepped back, clearly intimidated by his new charge. "Yes, sir, we did. Kazama—I mean, your son did well not to leave anything behind, sir." 

"Well, then that leaves us with nothing then, doesn't it?"

"What do you propose we do now, Kazuya?" Heihachi asked, who was sitting in his big, leather chair behind his desk, his fingers laced beneath his chin as his elbows rested on the flat top. 

"Chill out, old man," Kazuya said. "We keep looking, that's all. Nothing we can do 'til we find him."  


"Hmph," Heiachi huffed smugly, giving the younger man a look of unclouded doubt.

"And I'll go with you this time," Kazuya said. "Speed up the process. You guys aren't getting shit done on your own."

"My men are highly trained professionals," Heihachi said defensively, taking Kazuya by surprise. He hardly seemed the type to stick up for his men, although since it was _he_ who was putting them down, he figured that was one thing more he'd have to protect from his only son. "What can you possibly do that my men can't?"

Kazuya smirked, unfazed. "Don't forget who you're talking to, Dad," he said, his eyes flaring blood-red as energy pulsed through his veins with the thought of a chase beckoning at the heels of his feet—or the downy tips of his feathered wings.

Heihachi's eyes widened, and Kazuya laughed in mirth, taking complete pleasure in seeing the terror on his father's face. 

"I took your men down one to at least a hundred at one point," he continued arrogantly, not pausing for an instant. "_They_ weren't the ones who found me, _I_ found _you_. _I'm_ the one who's been through hell and back, and still running strong like I hadn't even been thrown into the mouth of a volcano."

__

I'm the Devil himself, you bastard, and there's nothing that compares to that. Nothing.


	10. Confrontation

****

SURRENDER by mentira

A Note From mentira: I'mmmmm baaaaaaaack! Bet y'all thought I was dead, huh? Gosh, it's been an awfully long time. To tell you the truth, I honestly wasn't sure I'd be able to pick this back up again. A huge thanks goes out to Melancholy Doll, who was my much needed "oomph" to get me back on this project, and to my brother, who helped me work out the technical difficulties for this story (a little alteration was made in the previous chapter, but nothing huge. You'd undoubtedly be able to pick up what I changed simply from reading this one). Not much for a comeback, I'll admit, but at least it's something. Hopefully I'll really get back into the swing of things real soon. Enjoy!

****

9.0 – Confrontation

By the time Jin and Xiao reached the supposed abandoned hanger and runway, it was almost one o' clock. From what he could see, she'd been right. The hanger itself was dark from the inside, but with the early afternoon sunlight shining through its windows, she could make out a few of the places housed in it. There were no vehicles parked anywhere near the building, and the runway was clear. 

Jin parked the car behind the hanger, out of sight from the dirt road they'd come from. He shut the car off and took the keys out of the ignition, but didn't move to get out of the car. 

"What's wrong?" Xiao asked.

"It's too early," Jin replied. "If this hanger hasn't been used in a while, like you said, it'll look suspicious for a plane to be leaving from this area, don't you think?"

Xiao hesitated for a moment, thinking it over. "Yeah, I suppose so. But don't we want to get a move on now? I mean, the sooner we leave the better, right?"

Jin nodded. "Yes, but we should wait 'til dark. It'll be safer that way."

"So…what're we gonna do until then?"

Jin glanced over at the building. They'd need to find a way inside to get at one of the planes. "Let's go check it out," he said.

"O-Okay."

They both got out of the car and started heading for the hanger. 

"Um, Jin?" Xiao asked timidly.

"What?"

"Have you ever flown a plane before?"

"Nope."

"Uh, well I haven't either, so… How exactly are we gonna do this?"

Jin glanced over at Xiao, a smirk playing on his lips. "We'll just have to learn by ourselves then, won't we?"

* * * * *

"Now, Miss…"

"Miharu."

"Miss Miharu—"

"No. Just Miharu."

"All right. _Miharu_, are you _certain_ that your friend is missing?"

"Yes!" Miharu exclaimed exasperatedly at the police officer. She was standing in the kitchen of Xiao's apartment, talking with Officer…Wulong, was it? She couldn't remember, though she had the strangest feeling of familiarity about him. 

He was a tall Asian man, though she could tell he was Chinese. He had dark skin, overly tanned from being outside in the sun so often, aged and wrinkled, especially around his eyes. His slick black hair fell way past his shoulders, its long strands pulled back into a messy ponytail, with shorter, uneven strands falling around his face—an unusual, yet disturbingly attractive look for a police officer. 

"And you claim that it was these men who supposedly broke into her house that kidnapped her?"

"That's what I said, wasn't it? And what do you mean 'supposedly'? She _was_ kidnapped." 

"Yes, ma'am. I'm just trying to keep an open mind here. Neither you nor anyone else in this building witnessed this incident taking place."

"I realize that, officer. But what else could have happened? I don't hear from her for a whole day—which, mind you, is very unlike us—and then I come in here to find her home completely trashed. What does that tell me?"

"All right, all right. But you said that she was mad at you from a previous argument you had—"

"There was no argument. I was just a little…unreasonable about something."

"Forgive me, my mistake. Regardless, there's also the possible scenario that she simply left you without informing you."

"What!? That's absurd! Xiao would never do that."

"I don't mean to offend you, miss. It's just that kidnapping is a very serious offense, and we don't want to make the mistake of jumping to conclusions when nothing of the sort really happened."

Miharu growled, frustrated. How _dare_ this man…act the way he was! Her best friend was missing and he was accusing her of jumping at shadows. "I'll tell you what happened, _mister_," she said, poking him in the chest with her index finger, "Someone broke into her house in the middle of the night—quite stealthily too, I might add—_kidnapped_ Xiao, trashed her apartment and split!"

Officer Wulong blinked his dark eyes down at her, apparently taken back. "O-Okay," he stammered. "If you're certain…"

"I _am_ certain. I'm _damned_ certain." She poked him in the chest each time she emphasized a word. "Now I want you and your other cop buddies to get your asses out there and start looking!" 

When Miharu had finished her little rant and calmed down, she realized how pushy was being. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat, stepping back, and looked the officer calmly in the eyes. "Please?"

Officer Wulong nodded his head, though his still wore the surprised, yet amazed, expression on his face. "Yes, Miss Miharu. Right away."

"That's _Miharu_. Just plain Miharu." 

* * * * *

It was hard to hear anything over the incessant chopping of the helicopter's propellers slicing through the air as they flew over Japan. Kazuya sat in the co-pilot's seat, four other Tekkenshu sitting around him, one directing the flying aircraft. He was scanning the area down below, searching for his illegitimate son, though he knew this tactic of searching was pointless.

Jin Kazama was a smart man, too smart for his own good, as far as Kazuya was concerned. He hadn't a doubt that they'd switched vehicles by now, so as to throw them off their track, and they certainly wouldn't be staying anywhere out in the open. 

No, Kazuya was more or less here for thought. He found he could always think better when suspended hundreds of feet into the air rather than on solid ground. _Think, Mishima,_ he urged himself. _Where would Jin hide?_

As it was, Heihachi's Tekkenshu were combing the country in search for him, searching every town, city and island they could get to. Of course, Jin would know of this, so he'd be extra careful. He didn't hold Jin's little slip-up to his own credibility—he'd had what Heihachi referred to as "that little spitfire" with him. A passenger to his travels could only complicate matters further, and, if anything, she'd only slow him down. 

This…spitfire—Xiao was her name. He definitely hoped she was what Heihachi made her out to be; she could be used as a valuable tool on Jin. Taking that into consideration, Kazuya realized that Jin would be trying to get out of the country fast, and to do that, he'd either have to travel by boat or plane, as he hadn't a doubt that his little girlfriend was unaware of her lover's secret. He'd take his shadows to the grave if it meant keeping his loved ones safe.

Kazuya frowned, pondering over this information. Boats moved too slowly for a successful escape, so that would leave…

Suddenly, he was struck with a strange and intense feeling. It felt like a deep brand being scorched into the core of his essence, one that burned and sprouted steaming coils from the wound to stretch throughout his entire being. He could feel the flames igniting, the red flare in his eyes flickering to life. And it was then, at that precise moment, that he knew exactly where Jin was. 

* * * * *

Xiao let out a startled yelp as she watched Jin's fist make contact with the sheet of glass inserted in one of the windows of the hanger they were currently breaking into. A loud shattering pierced the quiet atmosphere, echoing momentarily in the distance surrounding them as shards of broken glass rained down from the source of the impact before triggering the security alarm from inside. 

Before Xiao had time to much less react, Jin had already holstered himself up through the frame of the window he'd just smashed, using his feet to climb up the side of the concrete wall, and leapt down onto the other side. Xiao craned her neck, straining to see where he'd went, but to no avail. 

Moments later, the screams of the alarm came to a halt, and Xiao found herself checking around and behind her, as though fearful someone might have heard or seen them. But there was nothing. The hanger was in a pretty remote area. It was still considered a part of the city, but was far enough away from rest of civilization that no one could have heard it. 

"Something wrong?"

Xiao jumped. Whirling around, she came to find Jin in the window once again, peering down at her. "No," she with feigned certainly. 

Jin reached out through the frame. "Coming?" he asked. 

Xiao went to reach for his hand, but stopped short when she caught sight of dark rivulets of blood leaking down the back of his right hand, the wounded flesh red and tender with several cuts. "Oh my word," she gasped, standing on tiptoe to grasp his injured hand in her own. He neither flinched nor made any sound of pain as she gently touched the area close to the cuts. "Jin, are you crazy? What do you think you're doing, hurting yourself like that?"

"I'm fine," he replied, removing his hand from hers. He wiped at the blood, smearing it on the side of his dark jacket, and, to her surprise, no more blood seeped from the cuts. "Come on," he said, reaching for her again. "I'll pull you up." 

Xiao hesitated, gingerly slipping her small hands into his own. Jin lightly squeezed them, letting her know that it was all right, and began pulling her up. Xiao used her feet against the wall, pushing herself upward, while Jin concentrated on moving her over the bits of shard glass that still stuck out from the window frame. 

"Careful," he grunted, once she was halfway in. Her arms were supporting herself by his shoulders, as Jin, whom she now noticed was standing on a few stacked crates, grabbed her legs and guided them through. 

Xiao's foot slipped as she tried to get her balance on the sill, but Jin caught her before she could fall, and, holding her in his arms, jumped down onto the sturdy floor of the hanger. 

"All right," Jin said as he let her down on the floor, "back to business." 

There were four planes housed in this hanger. Jin instructed her to take the one closest to them, while he made his way over to the garage doors. Xiao obeyed without hesitation, choosing the biplane directly in front of her, climbing inside and taking the co-pilot's seat. 

From inside, she watched patiently as Jin activated an electric panel on the wall near the garage doors, which opened the first one in front of their plane. He then came to join her, taking the pilot's seat beside her.

They sat silently for a long moment, Xiao studying Jin's profile, while his gaze seemed fixated on the plane's controls, though she had the suspicion that he wasn't actually focusing at the controls, but rather his own thoughts. 

Suddenly a strange expression befell him. His gaze hardened slightly, switching from mere distant thought to intense concentration. She saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, the column of his throat fall into stillness. And it was then she realized that he was listening for something. She was just about to ask him what was wrong, when he himself broke the silence, shaking his head, as though shaking the remnants of dream from his memory, and said, "All right, I want you to pay close attention to what I do. In case anything should happen, I want you to be able to take over."

Xiao's eyes widened. Had she heard him right? "W-What?" she stammered. "I thought you said you'd never flown a plane before."

"I haven't."

"Then how the hell are you going to show me how it's done?" she demanded.

Jin looked at her then, a serious, yet understanding look upon his face. "Heihachi has his own private planes. When I was young, I used to be obsessed with them. My mother would let me go to work with him sometimes, and, with Heihachi's consent, let me spend time with his pilots. They'd take me to see the planes, and they even taught me how they run." 

"But…"

"What did you expect when you'd suggested the idea?" he asked. "That we'd sit around and read the manual first?"

Xiao blushed, but didn't answer. 

"This is the only chance we've got, Xiao." His tone was firm, but yet there was no forcefulness to it. Xiao knew he would back down if she were to ask him to. She knew he'd even do it without argument. But she also knew that he was right. Somehow, someway, though she had no idea what real kind of mess he was in, she knew this was his only escape. 

Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, Xiao said, "Okay. I'm ready."

"Okay."

* * * * *

Jin's hands wouldn't stop shaking as he worked them over the flight controls of their biplane. No matter how he tried, he could _not_ get them to remain steady. He could feel the cold clamminess sweating on his fingertips, making it difficult to press certain buttons or to grasp on to switches or levers. He muttered several curses, stricken by his clumsiness rather than frustrated. 

It wasn't nervousness that made his hands fumble, but fear. Cold, uncertain fear. Not fear of the plane, or of flying. Oh, no. It was something entirely separate from that. 

No, the source of his fear had come to him in an image. A haunting image of a short moment's time ago that seemed so solid, so real that it was almost tangible. 

A man, dressed in a tasteful suit, the jacket unbuttoned in the front, revealing a half-opened shirt, was walking towards him, his hands stuffed in his pants' pockets. He started off small at first, miniscule, like a small plastic figure without the facial features painted on, save for a small splotch of deep red that had dripped onto the center right of his face, where Jin guessed an eye would be. And he could hear sharp, purposeful footsteps piercing the death-like quite of his vision, the irritating tap of a shoe's heel against a hard floor surface, unfitting to an object so small. 

In slow time, however, the figure began to grow. Slowly, fluidly, as though it were a distant object gradually coming into focus. And it was then that Jin realized it wasn't red paint that marred the figure's face. 

It was a glowing light.

He breath caught in his throat then, a painful blockage of air as realization dawned on him that this was no plastic toy or object, but a monster in the living flesh.

Kazuya. 

__

Jin. 

The sound of his name echoed within the recesses of his mind. A deep, rumbling echo of a voice that he didn't recognize as his own. It was Kazuya's.

__

Jin…Jin, you worthless, troublesome fool. I'm coming for you. You'd better not run when I find you. I'm coming for you…

A dream. It had to be a dream. There was no other explanation for it. 

But Kazuya's voice still echoed off the walls of his skull, loud and clear, like he'd been right there, speaking directly to him. And his image… If he closed his eyes now, he knew Kazuya would be waiting right there behind his lids. 

"Jin?" Xiao's soft, concerned voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, though his eyes darted back and forth, scanning the interior of the hanger, what part of the runway he could see past the garage doors. 

Her small hand touched the back of his. "Your hands are shaking."

"Nerves," he lied. He looked over at her, giving her what he hoped was a convincing look of embarrassment. "I've never actually done this before, you know." 

Her dark eyes were serious when they met his. "I trust you," she said without hesitation. 

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to turn back to the task at hand. Clearing all thoughts except those concerning their plane, he began making the necessary sequences to get this contraption running.

He heard Xiao's soft gasp when the engine roared to life, and again when the propellers kicked in. Jin focused on the controls, grabbing hold of the stick and pushing it lightly forward, while at the same time pressing down on the pedals to taxi the aircraft out onto the runway. 

"Buckle up," Jin warned her as they approached the garage doors. He heard the faint swoosh of leather, the metallic click of the seatbelt clasping into place. 

They were just passing through the doors when something moved out from somewhere to the side, stepping out about twenty feet in front of them. Jin immediately released the pedals and the flight stick, bringing the plane to a slow halt, until they were just before whatever had interrupted their path. 

Beside him, Xiao leaned forward in her seat, trying to peer over the plane's front to see what it was. "Jin," she said, confusion evident in her voice. "What is it?" 

Jin didn't answer at first. He'd seen straightaway what is was—or rather, _who_ it was. It was his worst nightmare come true.

"Kazuya."


	11. Revisiting History

****

SURRENDER by mentira

A Note From mentira: Okay, this is actually only a _half_ of what I'd originally planned for the much larger chapter I was going to post. However, I'm in a bit of a rut right now to finish it, and I don't know how long it'll take me to dig myself out, so this is something to tie over the few people who still read my story. Much love goes out to you wonderful people, I hope you all enjoy. 

10.0 – Revisiting History

Jin could hardly believe the sight before his eyes. 

Kazuya. A walking corpse, now that he saw him in broad daylight, unlike how on the night he and Xiao had fled from her apartment, with the same pale and scarred face, darkened tender flesh rising over wounds that hadn't fully healed. Newer skin tissue patched the area in the crook of his neck, another over his left breast and disappearing under the white cotton of his shirt, where he'd been repaired during his time with the G-Corporation. His hair was a bit longer, messier, jagged edges hinting that he'd tried cutting it himself at one point, though he still owned the same characteristic thick, black eyebrows that rested over the very same eyes he'd seen haunting his dreams ever since the last tournament. His right eye, the Devil eye, now lacking its internal flame, was a deep crimson red. Overall, he was still the same man, the same bastard who made him for what he was. 

Though his presence here didn't baffle Jin as much as _how_ he'd gotten here. _How_ he'd known where to find them. Since their departure from the diner, he'd been very careful about not leaving any tracks for them to follow. 

__

Do you doubt your father's abilities, son?

The voice resounded in his head, just like it had in his vision, his father's voice deep, haughty with arrogance and laughing with pure, bitter mockery. Jin's eyes widened in shock. He studied his father's face, watching for any movement of lips, though it wouldn't matter, as he wouldn't be able to hear a sound over the plane's engine and the churning of its propellers. 

__

You're looking for what's already right in front of you, boy. Don't be stupid, you know very well what's happening here. 

Despite his initial shock, anger burned within him. Kazuya was taunting him, a habit he hadn't missed on inheriting from his own father. Jin's fists tightened in his lap, though he wouldn't allow himself to give in to his temper and hatred. He had to watch out for Xiao, after all, who was still sitting right beside him. 

As if reading his thoughts, Kazuya's eyes slid to the side, gazing at his son's companion. Jin watched in disgust as his father's eyes swept over Xiao, the unmistakable look of appeal in his eyes. 

__

Not bad, Jin. Not bad at all. I'm glad to see that you've at least inherited some good taste from me.

Jin found himself opening his mouth, readying to say the words to tell this pervert off, when Kazuya's voice interrupted him. 

__

Quite the temper now, haven't we? You certainly didn't get that dirty mouth from me. What does it hurt to let your old man have just one little look? 

"Jin," Xiao's voice broke him from his train of thought. He turned to see her looking at him, worry and confusion evident on her face. "What's going on? What's he doing here?"

It was hard to focus on words. He could feel this irritating tickling sensation in the back of his head, a sort of incessant probing. Looking hard at Xiao, he forced himself to clear his thoughts, to rid all thought of himself and Kazuya from his mind. "He's here for me, Xiao," Jin replied honestly. "Now, listen, I want you to stay here—"

"What? Where are you going? You're not going out there, are you?" 

Jin questioned his motives himself. He could just as well continue forward, plow over Kazuya and fly out of here, but there was a warning in the back of his mind that held him back from fulfilling that plan. Kazuya wasn't alone. He knew very well that he was no match for Jin on his own, that much was proven during the last tournament. Somewhere outside, he bet anything that there were men hiding around the hanger, waiting to pounce on him, and who knew what technology they'd have to bring him down? No, there was no way he could risk Xiao's life like that. 

"I have to."

Xiao looked uncertain. "Jin…"

Jin turned, ignoring her concern, and opened the door at his side. He was just about to slide out of the plane, when he heard the seats behind him squeaking. He glanced over his shoulder to see Xiao climbing over the chairs after them. "What are you doing?" he demanded loudly over the roaring of the plane. 

"I'm going with you," she shouted back. 

"No, you're not."

"Yes, _I am_," she argued with a sudden, unexpected determination. 

"Xiao—"

"Look," she said, sighing heavily, her lips pursed, brows knitting together in a frown, "I'm not gonna bullshit with you anymore about this. If you're going out there, I'm coming with you. That's all there is to it." 

Jin stared at her, speechless, and unable to deny the realization of how beautiful Xiao looked this way: fresh, angry and irritable. With her face set hard, her hair falling in a cascade of black, silken strands over her shoulders, dark eyes narrowing on him. 

"Fine," he said once he'd finally regained his composure. "But you stick close to me, and don't do anything without my say."

"Fine."

Silently, together they both got out of the plane. Jin stopped at the plane's side, unwilling to move any closer to the man standing before them. 

__

What's the matter, Jin? Afraid? I guess I should give you some credit, seeing as how you haven't flown away in your little plane. Smart move. You know I'd just come chasing after you.

Jin dug his nails into the palms of his hands, biting into skin. He felt something soft brush up against his side. Xiao. Her hand lightly touched the back of his, a gentle reminder that she was right there beside him, ready to fight at his side. Bracing himself, Jin started forward. 

Almost immediately, Jin saw strange men coming out of their hiding places, from around the building, parked vehicles that hadn't been there before. They were all dressed in black uniform, a uniform that Jin recognized. The Tekkenshu. Jin frowned to himself. What were the Tekkenshu doing with Kazuya? 

__

These are my men, Jin. Mine_. They work for me. _

These are Heihachi's men, Jin protested inwardly, taking a cautious glance backward to make sure that Xiao was still will him—which she was—all the while not once breaking the pace at which he walked toward Kazuya. 

__

All right, perhaps I did borrow a few men from your grandfather… But nevertheless, they follow my orders. Be mindful of that.

Heihachi hunts you just as you hunt me… How is this possible? 

Kazuya didn't answer his question directly, instead retorting with another taunting question. _Is this the way you treat your father and grandfather, with such disrespect?_

I have no father or grandfather. They're both as good as dead to me.

Jin stopped at an average man's height's distance in front of Kazuya. Xiao came to a halt directly beside him, no longer hiding in his shadow. The man in front of them stood calmly, casually, a knowing smirk playing on his pencil-thin lips, while the Tekkenshu were slowing drawing closely around them. 

"Well, hello, Jin," he spoke aloud for the first time. Hearing Kazuya's voice in all reality was more startling than inside his head. "Long time no see."

"I'd have hoped to have kept it that way," Jin retorted gruffly. 

Kazuya feigned a look of hurt. "Aw, Jin, why be so hard on your old man? What's past is past. Can't we get over it and just…start over?"

"Funny, isn't that why you're here though? To dig up more past?"

There was a slight twitch to Kazuya's brows, the faintest hint that Jin had affected him. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said smoothly, as though no such thing had ever taken place. His eyes switched over to Xiao. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" he asked. 

Jin's hand reached for Xiao, wrapping protectively over her wrist. "Cut the bullshit, Kazuya. I know why you're here." 

Kazuya ignored him, reaching for something in his pocket, a small plastic card. "Ling Xiaoyu, isn't it?" he read from it, then flipping the card around so they could see the printed side.

Jin heard Xiao's startled gasp, her feet scuffing against the graveled runway as she took a step forward, raising a clenched fist. "Why you… That's mine."

Kazuya tucked the card back in his pocket. "Ah, yes, I can see he was right. She is quite the little spitfire, isn't she?" 

Jin held tight on to Xiao, keeping her close at bay, while at the same time making a quick surveillance of the Tekkenshu. One, two, three… There had to be at least two dozen or more surrounding them. He couldn't even begin to imagine how many there might be in hiding.

__

Count away, Jin. It'll do you no good. We're more than ready for you this time…

And as if on cue, several guns clicked off their safety mode. 

Jin growled low in frustration. Kazuya was still going on about some nonsense or other, seeming as though he'd never taken a break anywhere along his sentence. This was stupid. Kazuya was stalling. He wasn't fool enough to play on the idea that his father was actually nervous, so the only other explanation was that he had no direct plan. He'd come so far as to corner him here, but now that he had him he didn't know quite how to go about him. Jin accepted this knowledge gratefully, deciding that he would play on Kazuya's disadvantage, turn the tables a bit.

Doing his best to clear his thoughts, and hoping that Kazuya hadn't already caught on, Jin daringly stepped over into dangerous territory. "What's this all of a sudden, Kazuya? I've never known you to be one to beat around the bush. It's not your style."

"Funny hearing that from you, son, seeing as how you know nothing about me," Kazuya retorted, apparently well prepared for just this sort of thing.

Jin gritted his teeth, refusing to back down. "You're right. How could I? I'd never even met you until four years ago. All I ever knew then were the fairy tales told by my mother, tales of a father who turned out to be nothing but that—a fantasy." 

Bright red flared into Kazuya's Devil eye. Jin heard Xiao's startled gasp, and he was reminded that he had to be careful. He didn't want to reveal too much to her. 

"You have a lot of nerve to bring _her_ up at a time such as this, Jin," Kazuya spat vehemently, brows knitting closely together, nostrils flaring in anger. 

As much as it disturbed Jin to use his mother as a form of distraction, he saw this as his only opportunity. While Kazuya's anger was centered on him, he squeezed Xiao's wrist discreetly, snagging her attention. "Why should it matter to you? You never cared about her. You left her to be killed by that…that monster." 

"Don't impugn my loyalty to your mother. It was _you_ who failed to protect her. _You_, who is supposed to be as powerful as me, allowed yourself to be tossed aside by a mere creature ten times less the power and strength we both hold. It is _you_ who led her to her death, boy, not me." 

Jin's resolve almost faltered, the sharp bite and brutality of Kazuya's words cutting so deep it momentarily knocked him off balance. For years he'd blamed himself of the very same thing, but to hear it turned on him by this man was almost too much to bear. 

Xiao's fingers playing on the side of his hand reminded him of his place, her touch hesitant, questioning in response to his previous gesture. He could feel her eyes on him, a look of mixed confusion and concern, appropriate so as not to lead Kazuya into thinking something was up. 

"Then why didn't you come to her rescue? If you're so high and mighty, why weren't you there to fight off the beast?" he demanded, feigning ignorance as a means to fuel Kazuya's fire. He'd learned long since he'd exposed Heihachi's corporation after the fourth tournament of his father's whereabouts during his youth. 

A flicker of emotion crossed Kazuya's eyes, quick and fleeting, unclear to decipher, but there just the same. He shook his head abruptly, an ugly snarl molding his facial features as he clenched a fist at his side, his whole arm quivering with the intensity at which he maintained his grip, and Jin sensed that he was having an inward battle. Kazuya against the Devil gene, human emotion—which he doubted Kazuya had much of—against the will of the evil that possessed him. 

Jin had seen this only too many times before in himself, and he knew a brief second's pity as he watched Kazuya's turmoil. Blood spilled from his hand, a crimson substance so dark and thick it was almost black leaking through his fingers. Kazuya looked down at his hand, observing what he'd done for himself.

Jin acted quickly, taking advantage of the moment. Looking over at Xiao, he nodded his head back towards the hanger. Xiao's eyes widened, understanding dawning on her immediately, but she shook her head in protest. He was touched by her devotion to stay at his side, but he couldn't be swayed. This was their only chance. He nodded his head once more and mouthed the words "trust me" to her. 

He didn't give Xiao a chance to argue, for he then quickly turned his attention back to Kazuya, appearing as calm and natural as he'd been as the older man was just then looking up from his hand. The Devil had won, he realized with certainty. Any trace of humanity that he'd just witnessed was gone, and Kazuya now wore a look that was downright insanity. The laugh that he emitted was nothing short of that, either. 

"Why do you trouble me with such things?" Kazuya mused. His voice was deeper, raspier, not his own. The red flare in his eye was more intense, the tone of his skin darker than normal. "Your mother was a cheap slut and a bad lay, who thought she'd stolen my heart but managed nothing other than to irritate me to no end and to take away the one thing that mattered to me most…" 

Jin's eyes narrowed, a rage unlike any other he'd harbored towards this man before swelling deep inside. He wasn't sure whether this was Kazuya or the Devil speaking, but either way, Jin was this close to losing his demeanor and smashing his fist into the bastard's face. The thought of Xiao standing victim at his side was what kept him at bay.

"…And put it into the shell of a brat like you," Kazuya continued, rapidly changing from maniacal to menacing. "Enough of this nonsense," he spat, whipping his bloodied hand out to the side, sprinkling droplets of it, extending his fingers so that Jin could see the razor-sharp talons that had emerged there. "You have what I want. Give it to me."

"Over my dead body."

"So be it." 

Jin heard the Tekkenshu shift around them, readying their arms to make fire. 

__

You're mine, Kazuya's voice echoed inside his head.

He inhaled a deep breath, mustering all the strength his possessed, realizing that this was it. It was now or never. 


End file.
